


Nobody Needs to Know

by a_suspiciously_large_pig (Queenie_D)



Series: Pig's Married JMart AU [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon Asexual Character, Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), Elias is here to cause problems for everyone else, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Jon and Martin are idiots, M/M, Married Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha has custody of the archives braincell, Secret Relationship, Spoiler for Season One, Spoilers for Season Two, Technically spoilers through to season 4 tbh, Tim is a tiny bit oblivious, a little bit of implied LonelyEyes but nothing explicate, a touch of angst because I chose violence, but also lots and lots of comfort, canon? what's that? never heard of that?, crack taken kinda seriously, honestly this is just some mildly self indulgent stupidity, no beta we die like we're in a mechanisms album, please just roll with the timelines it's a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 78,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27502672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_D/pseuds/a_suspiciously_large_pig
Summary: HR at the Magnus Institute was a department that was used significantly less than it probably should have, but there was one rule that they were known to crack down on; no relationships between coworkers, and especially not between superiors and their subordinates. This is going to be a problem for some of the new archival staff.-In which Jon and Martin are married before they even start working in the archives, and try to hide their relationship to avoid the wrath of the HR department.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Pig's Married JMart AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060337
Comments: 595
Kudos: 891
Collections: RaeLynn's Epic Rec List, Repulsed/Averse Ace Jon Archivist





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elias is trying to find one more archival assistant, Peter is trying to annoy him, and Martin is anxious.
> 
> (also characters thoughts are in italics)

There was that telltale ringing in his ears that let him know that someone was coming to bother him. And as that damp cold started to creep around him, it was little question as to which someone intended on bothering him today. He didn't bother to look up from his paperwork, though he felt the exasperated groan he let out was enough acknowledgement for his new guest.

"Well, sound like things have been pretty eventful around here, from what I've heard."

"Aren't you supposed to be off in the middle of the ocean?"

"We do occasionally dock, you know?" The smugness dripped form his voice as he leaned back in the chair. Whether this was to display the irritatingly pompous attitude he seemed to be in today, or to add a little more distance between the two of them, despite the considerably sized antique desk already separating them, Elias could not be bothered to figure out. "What, did your god fail to inform you of my return? I'm wounded, Elias."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure." If there was any comfort he could take in Peter's smugness, it was that whatever he could dish out to him, Elias could usually return it in sarcasm. "Believe it or not, Peter, I do in fact have more important things to worry about than your whereabouts."

"Yes yes, you and your grand schemes, I am well aware."

"Not all of us can just throw some money at a shipping company or a tower block. Some of us actually need to put effort into our plans."

"Hey, no need to get mad at me just because your precious Eye is picky-"

"What do you want, Peter?" Elias sighed, finally looking up from the documents strewn about the desk to give a tired glare. 

"Is it really so unrealistic that I might have wanted to see an old friend?" 

"Yes. Extremely so." _And I'm not sure friend is the term to use here_ , Elias thought, but he decided to keep that to himself. He had neither the time nor the energy to deal with the debate over what exactly the correct term would be. "Now, I think it would be in both of our best interests if you simply told me why you're here, rather than making me ask you again."

Peters expression soured a little at the implications of how Elias had said "ask". He knew as well as anyone that is was certainly in his best interest to avoid that.

"I was curious. Wanted to see how the institute was doing, you know, check up on my investments." The subtle, knowing smile Peter had been wearing when he first arrived snuck back as he paused, considering his next words carefully. "From what I've heard, you're missing your archivist."

Elias let out long sigh. _Of course, of course that's why you're here to pester me._ He'd been to busy to bother Knowing why Peter had shown up, but this really should have been obvious. Although, where exactly he had "heard" this might have been good to look into. The number of people Peter willingly talked to could be counted on one hand, Elias included, so that at least narrowed down the possibilities. 

_I am too busy for this right now._

"Yes, we are."

"The official story seems to be that...oh...what was her name again?"

"Gertrude." Contempt was clear in his voice, though it wasn't totally clear who it was for. "Gertrude Robinson. Though I doubt you actual cared about her name."

"Ah yes, Gertrude. So, the official reports are saying that she's missing, correct?"

"Yes." 

"And let me guess, you know exactly where she is?"

"Of course."

"And I have a feeling you're also not going to tell anyone where that is?"

"Absolutely not." 

Peter let out a quick chuckle, "Naturally. Wouldn't expect any less from you. I think the only thing you enjoy more than collecting knowledge is withholding it from other people. 

Elias wanted to protest this, but he couldn't deny that he did take some satisfaction in it. There was something about knowing something others didn't, and having that upper hand that he found intoxicating.

"So I'm assuming that's what all these papers are for? Looking for a replacement."

"Not exactly," Despite what he deemed to be his better judgment, Elias had decided to tell Peter what he was doing, "I'm looking for assistants. I've actually already chosen a new Archivist."

"That was quick. This new Archivist must be something special."

"Not particularly, he's one of the higher ups in research, been with the institute for a few years now, but-"

"But?"

"He's had an...encounter. It was nearly two decades ago, now, but should still be useful to me."

"With the Beholding?"

Elias shook his head, "The Web. A Leitner book."

Peter considered this for a moment, letting out a quite hum, "That should be interesting." He leaned forward to glance over the papers on the desk, "So you're looking for assistants for him now?"

"Assistant, to be accurate. He's requested two assistants already. Some other employees from the research department. I've looked into them," which both of them knew meant more than just looking over their files, "They seem like they will do nicely. But I'm still trying to find a third."

"Are you ever going to explain why you are so insistent on there being three archival assistants?"

"No."

"Hmm, didn't think so. Having any luck with the search so far? Anyone catching your eye?" Peter paused a moment, a quite snort of a laugh escaping him, "pun unintended."

"I've narrowed it down to a few, yes." Elias responded, making a conscious effort to not even acknowledge the attempt at a joke, "I've been going over their files, and seeing if I can find out anything that might be of use to me. So far nothing particularly interesting, but I still have these last...few..." His voice trailed off as he flipped through this particular file. His eyes looked over it intently, with a burning intensity that Peter knew meant he was looking at more than just the words on the page.

"Found something interesting?"

A devious, satisfied smile spread across his face, "Oh yes, I most certainly have. I'm almost disappointed with myself that I hadn't noticed it sooner."

"And I will assume that you're not going to tell me what it is."

"No, I won't, at least not yet. But, what I will say, is that this is definitely going to be interesting to watch."

* * *

Martin had never been fans of meetings. Maybe department ones weren't too bad, where he was in a group with other staff, and could fade into the background, but this? Meeting one on one, not even with the head librarian, but with the head of the whole institute? He was not a fan.

It made it worse that he hadn't been told what this meeting was supposed to be about. Rosie had just told him that "Mr. Bouchard was looking to talk to you", and asked if 4 o'clock would be a good time for him. The time slot didn't help him much, either. Right near the end of his shift. His head was swimming with a cacophony of anxious voices;

_They know you lied_

_They know about your CV_

_You're in trouble_

_It's bad enough that they're sending you right to the head of the institute_

_They're going to fire you_

_They know you lied, and now they're going to fire you_

That had to be it. There was nothing else he could think of that could warrant him being sent to Mr. Bouchard, rather than just the head of the library. His work in the library had always been satisfactory, and he'd always kept a low profile otherwise. He got along well enough with his coworkers, he was always as kind as possible to the students and scholars who came into the library. It had to be his CV. Someone must have double checked something, or noticed some inconsistency in his story, or he had messed up somehow and let it slip and not noticed, and now it was all crashing down around him.

_Keep it together, Martin, you don't need to make this harder than it is by crying in front of him_

He sank down a little further into the uncomfortable waiting room chair, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself down. 

He still jumped when the door the the office suddenly swung open. 

"Martin Blackwood, I presume?" The man in the doorway smiled at him with the kind of smile that tried and failed to seem warm and friendly. It had an artificial quality that seemed to compliment the strangely cold green eyes that started down at him. "Please, come in, make yourself comfortable."

Martin stepped inside the office, taking a second to process it. Plenty of the institute had a kind of antique charm, with lots of the old Victorian details still in tact, but it was toned down enough in most places that the building still seemed like people from the 21st century were working their. This office, however, was, in a word, grand. Dark green paint, and old wooden furniture that very well could have been original to the building, multiple paintings hung around the room. It all felt very opulent for an office, and yet Elias seemed to fit into the décor so perfectly. There was something strangely beautiful, and yet oddly unsettling about it all.

_Now is not the time to admire office furnishings, stop trying to distract yourself_

Taking another deep breath, Martin sat down in the chair across the desk from Elias, and braced himself for what was about to come.

"Well, I'll get right to the point,"

_Here it goes_

"I'm sure you've heard we are currently trying to re-staff our archives,"

_Wait, what?_

"O..oh...oh yes, I, um, I think I did hear about that." Martin managed to stammer out.

"Yes, well, I was looking over your file, and between your rather impressive CV, and your experience working in the library, I though you might be a perfect fit to be one of the new archival assistants."

Martin's brain all at once felt like it was working in double time to try and keep up with this, and like it had shut down completely, "I...uh...really?"

"Absolutely. Archival work will be different from what you are used to in the library, but I suspect you will be up to the challenge. You'll be working similar hours, and there is a very slight pay raise you will get with it. I was hoping you would be interested in the position. I understand if I may seem sudden, but we are looking to make transfer as soon as possible, you see. Not to rush your considerations, but we are looking to get our archives back up and running by next week at the latest. So, what do you say?"

Martin hadn't even fully processed the words that Elias had just said to him before he started blurting out his answer.

"Uh, yeah, yes, that would...that sounds great. I'll, um, yes, definitely, I'll take the position."

That painted on smile from earlier was back on Elias's face, but at this point Martin was too awestruck by the whole situation to notice, "Excellent, I'm glad to hear it, Martin. I think archival assistant is going to suit you quite nicely." 

After a few more minutes of handshakes, and discussions of contracts to be signed and forms to be filled, Martin was making his way back to the library, practically floating from how this meeting had turned out.

_He didn't fire me. Holy shit, I didn't get fired! Not only that, but I got promoted!_

_I'm going to be working in the archives, I'm going to be one of the archival assistants. Me. He asked me to do it. To assist his head archivist._

That last thought snapped Martin back to reality. All at once he was reminded of one very important detail that had been lost amongst the panic of the meeting.

"Working with the new head archivist." He muttered to himself, "The new head archivist who happens to be...." 

He stopped in his tracks as he tried to wrap his head around the mess he had just gotten himself into.

"Shit."

_This is not going to be a fun conversation when we get home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here's chapter one!! Hope you guys enjoyed it, I'm having fun writing this (it's been a hot second since I tried to write something like this). I'm not sure if I'm going to have any kind of regular upload schedule for this, but I mostly just plan on trying to get it all done as quick as I can while I still have the drive to do this hahaha keep your fingers crossed for me, y'all


	2. Well, This Is A Bit Of A Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin is not looking forward to telling Jon what he did at work today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooo FUCK this ended up being longer than I expected. I had planned on writing more one scene for this chapter, but here with are, with a still very anxious Martin. Hope you enjoy it! It was a very good way to procrastinate on writing my psych term paper.  
> Also, I told you I was going to try and write this as quick as I could, so yes this chapter it up literally a day after the previous one was uploaded hahaha fingers crossed for the next chapter

From the kitchen, Martin could still pretty clearly heard the front door of the flat opening at its usual later-than-was-probably-reasonable-to-get-off-work time. It was still only just after 7 o'clock, but considering the research department at the institute technically closed at 5, it was still a little later than he would consider normal for most people. For annoyingly handsome workaholics, however, it was apparently completely normal to regularly stay an extra hour after closing, determined to just get one more thing finished.

Today, thought, Martin couldn't find it in himself to be even a little bit bothered by this. He usually wasn't, anyway, having gotten used to it after several years of it now, but today, he really appreciated the extra time to collect this thoughts. 

It was going to be fine. It'll be fine. He was going to tell him, and they were going to figure it out, and it would all be fine. Jon would understand. He had just made a mistake, and Jon was going to understand that, and they were going to fix it. He wasn't going to be angry with him. He wouldn't. Well, maybe a little angry, but that was, well, that was really to be expected. I mean, it wasn't like this was a small mistake. It was pretty big, honestly. Jon would be right to be mad at him. This was a big mistake, and he had not clue what to do about it, and he had to fix this, because it wasn't going to be fine, and...and...

_No, stop this, get yourself together_

He took a deep breath and steadied himself. This was Jon. Jon knew him. He loved him. Even if he was upset, Martin knew he wasn't going to be _angry_ with him. Not like other people would have in the past. Hell, they had known each other for nearly six years, and Jon had only ever raised his voice at Martin once, and that was years ago. Martin couldn't remember a time that Jon had apologized to him more. They could fix this. It was going to be ok.

Martin was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt a hand being placed gently on his shoulder. Jon leaned up and quickly pressed a kiss onto Martins cheek, before moving to his usual spot at their kitchen table. It was such a normal thing for them, their usual after work routine, and that only made it all the more comforting to Martin tonight.

"I see you actually made it home tonight." Martin teased, mustering as much dry humor as he could right now.

'Well of course. How could I not when I knew I had you waiting for me." Without even looking Martin knew exactly the sappy smile that Jon had across his face right now. Six years. Nearly six fucking years and Jon could still manage to make Martin blush like a lovestruck teenager. 

_Bastard_

"So, how was work today?"

Jon let out a tired little laugh, "Well, I was told to piss off by two different people while attempting to do some follow ups, so that was at least interesting. Besides that, nothing too exciting. Reading reports, writing reports, you know, the usual."

"What did you do to get two people to tell you to piss off?" Martin said with a barely contained laugh. Jon wasn't always the best when it came to people, but even this was a little ridiculous for him.

"Call them, apparently. One of them seemed fine at first, but as soon as I brought up the actual case I was looking into they started to panic. The other I only managed to get to 'I'm calling from the Magnus Institute' before they let out a string of rather colourful comments, and then hung up on me."

"Jesus, must have been some case."

"It would seem so. At least it wasn't a boring day. So, how about you, anything particularly exciting happen in the library?"

"Oh, no, nothing much. Lots of books. Same old stuff. But...uh..." he quickly squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible, "I did actually have a meeting today...with, uh, with Mr. Bouchard."

Jon shot him a curious look, head tilted just slightly to one side, and enough thinly veiled concern in his eyes to let Martin know he had not done as good a job sounding casual as he hoped, "A meeting with Elias? About what?"

"Nothing to worry about...uh...well...nothing bad that is, really," He huffed out a halfhearted laugh, "I'm not getting fired, or anything like that."

The curiosity on Jon's face grew, along with the concern, the little crease between his eyebrows growing deeper as Martin spoke. "Oh, yes, well, yes that is good. So what did he want to talk to you about?"

"He, um, actually offered me a new position. Bit of a promotion, actually."

"That...that's great! Martin, that's wonderful! Did you take the job? Will you still be in the library?" All at once the worry seemed to disappear from Jon, replaced no by excitement. It was almost hard for Martin to look at, know it was likely about to vanish as quickly as it appeared. 

"I did take the job. Honestly it all happened so fast I just kinda spat out a yes before I even thought about it. But...um..."

"But?"

"The job actually isn't in the library. It's actually in a different department." Martin had not expected how hard this was going to be. It should have been simple; just tell Jon, tell him he made a mistake, and tomorrow talk to Elias and tell him he couldn't take the job. Yet the words just didn't seem to want to come out of his mouth.

Jon had once again picked up on how nervous Martin seemed. His face had shifted back to the worried look from earlier, but without so much curiosity this time around. He couldn't look at him right now, not with that expression, so he closed his eyes and took one last deep breath.

"It's, uh, well...he offered me one of the archival assistant jobs." Martin blurted out. There was a second of silence afterwards, so he finally opened his eyes again to see Jon's reaction. At the moment he just looked confused.

"Oh?" As the seconds ticked on the confusion morphed as the realization dawned on Jon, "Oh. _Oh_."

"Yeah, oh."

The human resources department at the Magnus Institute was, in a word, questionable. Sure complaints were taken seriously enough, and some effort would be put into finding a solution, but it certainly wasn't winning any awards. You never knew if something was going to take an afternoon or the next three months for them to deal with, and Martin could swear there had been more than a dozen times in his years of working at the Institute that the whole department would just shut down for a few days for no apparent reason. There was, however, a few rules that they were known to crack down on particularly hard, with the best know among those being "no romantic relationships between coworkers". Why this was the rule they seemed to have dedicated themselves to enforcing so diligently, no one knew (especially with the rumors that tended to go around about Mr. Bouchard and some of the benefactors to the institute, but Martin had always told himself that whatever Elias was up to was none of his business), but it was one of the quickest ways to get in trouble.

Jon and Martin had managed to make it work so far. Hell, they'd gotten married while both of them were working at the institute. But that was different. They had started dating before Jon got his job in research, and they had been working in completely different departments in completely different parts of the building. They hardly ever saw each other at work. Most people probably wouldn't have known that they knew each other, let alone that they had been married for two years.

But now they were supposed to be working in the same department. In a department with only four people in it, where they would have to interact. Not only because of how small the department was, but also because Jon was now supposed to be Martin's _immediate superior_. After being at the Institute as long as Martin had, he had witnessed two or three pairs of people get reprimanded rather harshly for breaking the rule, but once, only once, had he gotten to see what happened when it was a superior and their subordinate who got caught. He had never met anyone from the HR department, but thanks to that incident, he knew how loudly one of them could yell. From what people had told him, both of their offices had been cleared out by the end of that day.

It was another long few moments of silence between them before Jon finally cleared his throat.

"Well, hm, this uh, this could be a bit of a problem." Jon, true to his fashion, looked abnormally calm about this. For some reason, that was what opened the flood gates in Martin's head.

"God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Jon. It was a mistake, I'm sorry, I...I really messed up, I'm sorry. I...I wasn't thinking. Elias just started talking and I was scared that he had found out about my CV and I thought he was going to fire me and...and my head was just such a mess, I hardly even knew what he was talking about when he started talking about the job. He just told me he wanted me for the position, and...I...he said I would get a raise, and it all just happened so fast, I didn't know what I was doing. He seemed like he wanted the an answer quickly and it just felt like I was being stared into the whole time and I...I just..."

Jon had rushed out of his seat and grabbed Martin's forearms, holding them tightly, giving Martin something to ground himself with. One of his hands then moved to cup Martin's cheek, thumb gently rubbing beneath his eye. 

"Hey hey hey, Martin, it's ok, its ok," Jon's voice was steady an reassuring as he spoke, settling Martin's racing mind down a little more, "It's going to be fine. You're ok."

Martin leaned his face into the touch a little more, letting out a few more ragged breaths, "It's just, you seemed really proud to get the head archivist job, and I don't want to mess this up for you. I can't ruin this for you."

"You're not going to ruin this, it'll be fine, we'll figure this out. This is...complicated, yes, but it's fine, we can make this work. It's not your fault, Martin. I mean, I know all too well how stressful meetings with Elias are, it's hard to keep your thoughts straight with him. It's nothing you need to be sorry for."

Wrapping his arms around him, Martin pulled his husband into a tight hug, kissing his temple as he did. Jon, in turn, moved his arms around Martin's chest, pulling himself even closer into the embrace.

"Thank you." His voice was tired from the panic, and muffled from his face being pressed into Jon's hair, "I really love you, you know?"

He could feel Jon smile widely against his shoulder, "I know. I love you too."

They stayed like that for a while longer, until most of the anxiety had melted away in their arms. Eventually Martin pulled back with a disappointed sigh.

"Well, I guess I'll have to go back to Elias tomorrow to talk to him. That should be fun."

When he looked back to Jon that same confused look from earlier was back, "Talk to Elias? About what?"

"About turning down the job."

"Why would you turn down the job?"

For someone who was honestly very intelligent, it amazed Martin how _stupid_ Jon could be sometimes. "Because I figured we didn't want to lose our jobs?"

"Ah...yes, I guess does make sense-" 

"Did you think I was still going to take the job?"

"Well...I...yes?" Jon eventually managed to stammer out, "It's just, I don't know, I figured since you already took it you might as well...take it? I mean, you wouldn't have to go back to Elias, first of all, and I'd say that's always preferable. Plus, like you said, you'd get a bit of a raise, which would be good. It would also get you out of the library, I know how fed up you are of working there-"

"I'm not fed up with working in the library!" Martin huffed defensively.

"Martin, we both know that's not true." 

Martin stayed quite for a second before groaning in defeat, "Fine, you're right, I've been doing the same damn things for five years now, so yes, maybe I'm a little bored with it, but what exactly is your plan here? I'm not sure about you, but I don't think me getting a minor pay raise is wroth getting divorced."

Jon rolled his eyes in response to the comment, "No, Martin, of course that's not what I meant. I just...I sort of figured we would just...do what we've been doing so far?"

"So, what, you want us to lie to our coworkers?"

"I...not lie exactly. Just not tell them, I guess." It seemed to be dawning on him just how ridiculous this was sounding, "I know it sounds crazy, I know, but please hear me out. I know the other two assistants, they worked in research with me, but to be completely honest I'm not sure they even know I'm married. I...I haven't been hiding it from them, but, it just never really came up. You've said yourself that none of your coworkers know we're together, and I don't think anyone else in the institute does either. So, I thought maybe, since we both seem to want these jobs, we could just continue to not let anyone know."

Maybe it was because of how tried and stressed he was feeling, but despite how utterly insane this plan sounded to Martin, it was starting to sound almost appealing. Not that it made sense, because right now, it really didn't, but appealing nonetheless. 

"Do you think it could work?"

"I..." Jon took a long pause to think it over, "I have absolutely no idea. It's worth a shot, though."

_I mean, you have already lied on your CV,_ Martin thought to himself

Another tired sigh escaped Martin, his head dropping a little as he gave into the insanity of this plan.

_Fuck it_

_Sure_

"Alright, sure, why not. So, what's the plan here? Do we just act like we don't know each other at all?"

"I...hmm...I don't think we need to act like complete strangers. acquaintances perhaps?"

"Ok, acquaintances, sure. I think I can do that." As he tried to figure out how exactly this was going to work, Martin became very aware of his left hand, "Shit, ring. What should I do about my ring? Should I just not wear it?"

"Well, I don't really think that will be a big deal. They really haven't ever seen mine." Jon laughed as tugged out the chain he kept tucked under the collar of his shirt. They had discovered shortly after they got married just how uncomfortable Jon found wearing a ring, so Martin had given him the necklace so that he could still wear his ring, just around his neck rather than on his finger. At this moment, it seemed that gift had another added benefit.

"Ok. Ok cool. So, I guess, we both start our new jobs and kinda, just, pretend we only work together?"

"Boss and assistant, nothing more than that."

"And then come home and laugh at ourselves over how ridiculous this is going to be."

There was another pause between them, though much more comfortable than the other silences they had dealt with that night. Eventually they both broke the quite with laughter.

"Pretty much, yes. It seems that's the plan." Jon breathed out between hardly suppressed laughs. 

Running his hand through his hair, Martin shook his head, still chuckling "Oh god, this is going to be a disaster."

"Let's hope not." Jon wrapped his arms back around his husbands check, looking up at him with a reassuring grin, "I'm sure we can make this work. And besides, we're both getting a pay raise out of this. All the more reason to try."

Placing his had on the nape of Jon's neck, Martin tilted his head down to kiss Jon. It was quick and casual, like so many they had shared before, but it still made their hearts flutter a little.

"You're excited about that raise, aren't you? Still determined to get out of this flat?"

"Maybe. Can't imagine you would mind leaving this place."

Martin couldn't help but nod in agreement. "No, can't say you're wrong on that one. So I guess we're really going to do this."

"It would seem so."

They stood there in each others arms for a while longer, slowly tangling themselves tighter together.

"I love you, Jon." Martin whispered into his husband's ear.

"I love you too, Martin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And today on weird traits I'm projecting onto Jon: my sensory issues with wearing rings. Tune in next time to see what I project onto him next. Maybe in the next chapter I'll also figure out how to stop using the word "just" so much because oh boy did it feel like I wrote it a lot (not sure if I did, but it sure felt that way)  
> Anyways, I'm still really having fun writing this, it's just kind of silly and fun for me. The workplace shenanigans shall begin in the next chapter, so I'm hoping to have that done for you guys soon :) 
> 
> Also, oh my god you guys, your comments have been so sweet so far, I love them! I'm so happy people are enjoying this!


	3. Cross Our Fingers and Hope For the Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day one of hiding a relationship from the archive crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, the comments, oh my god I love y'all. They are seriously so sweet. Also shoutout to the people who have commented that they also share my thing with rings, glad to know I'm know the only one.  
> Anyways, time for the start of the good ol' work place disaster that this is going to be. Plus some Jon POV, so that's fun. Hope you enjoy!!

Monday had rolled around much quicker than either of them would have liked. The last few days of the work week had passed by in a blur, and the weekend had been taken over by planning, so now here they were; on their morning walk to the tube station, going over everything one last time."

"So you're sure this is going to be the best way to do this?" Martin asked, the apprehension in his voice still as present as when they have first discussed the idea.

"Yes, I think so." Jon tried to sound as confident as he could, though he wasn't sure if it was to convince Martin or himself, "If I just commit to treating you the same way I treat the others, I think I can pull this off. It's just putting on a little act for work, nothing I haven't done before, I think I can do this."

Jon was confident that Martin was going to be able to do this. Martin had always been surprisingly good at lying and hiding information (almost concerningly so at times). He had managed to make it six years at the Institute with fake credentials, and as nervous as it made him sometimes, most days he made it look effortless, and, on top of that, no one seemed to ever question him about it. No, Martin would be fine. It was himself he was worried about.

He was used to putting on a bit of an act for work, sure, it had always been easier to do that. Tiring, maybe, but still easier in his mind. Put on a face to keep up that air of academic professionalism he tried to maintain, keep all that other stuff that he didn't need for work behind a wall. It was better that way. People respected him that way. The problem was, he had spent so long making sure every last bit of that wall had been torn down around Martin, he wasn't sure he would be able to put it back up, even if it was just an act. He hated the idea of pretending like every smile Martin gave him didn't fill his chest with warmth, that every touch didn't make him want to melt into it. 

He had to do it, thought. He had to. This was too good of an opportunity, for both of them, they couldn't pass this up, and more importantly, they couldn't mess it up. He could do this. Martin trusted him, so he could do this. He would. It was just like he'd been doing at work for years. Tim and Sasha were used to him acting prickly and never talking about his personal life, so this was going to be nothing unusual. If just did what he's always done, they probably won't even notice anything at all.

Never did Jon think he would be thankful for those years of am-dram he did in uni, but right now he thought that those might just be what saves him.

"Alright, cool, cool. You were saying something before about it, something about how I 'might not exactly like' how you act?"

"Ah, yes, well, I have been told I that I can be a bit...abrasive by some of the others."

"Oh, ok." Martin paused to mull it over before letting out a short laugh, "Yeah, I can see that."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Jon snapped back in mock-offence.

"I'm just saying, you're not exactly the biggest people person in the world." Martin teased, "I mean, you certainly were when we first met."

"I...that's not..." With a groan, Jon hung his head "Yes, I guess you're right."

"Yes I am." Martin said triumphantly, "So, is there anything else you think I should know about?"

"No, no, I think we've covered everything."

* * *

Only they hadn't, and Jon was quickly reminded of that once he had gotten to work. He had arrived at the archives first, after Martin had suggested that it would probably be better to not arrive at work together, and opted to stop at the café near the institute first, so Jon was alone when the door swung open. And in he came. In all his boisterous personality, and brightly patterned shirts, and unwavering confidence. 

_Tim_

_Shit_

After a few years working together in research, Jon had gotten used to Tim and his...Timness. Tim was a good person, he did good work, and Jon had grown fond of him over the years, but that didn't mean he wasn't still _a lot_ sometimes. Sometimes his friendliness bordered on overwhelming, and he had a habit of being a bit too loud and a bit too physical for Jon's taste. He also liked asking questions. A lot of question, in fact. A great trait for a researcher, and it was certainly to be to benefit to their actual work, but when you're trying to hide something from your coworker? Not ideal.

"Morning, bossman! God, it's depressing down here, isn't it. I think dungeon might be a more accurate term than basement." He was wearing that one shirt that Jon absolutely hates; garishly bright red and blue in a tiny geometric pattern that made his vision swim if he looked at it too long. Lucky for Tim, dress code was among one of the rules that was not really enforced around the Institute. 

"Good morning, Tim." Jon said, letting his voice slip into its usual dry tone.

"So, get up to anything exciting over the weekend? Or just your usual top secret adventures?"

"Tim, I've already told you-"

"Oh, let him be Tim. Even if he did have some secret double life, do you really think he would tell you?" A woman's voice cut in from the doorway, "It's that kinda the point of it being secret?"

"Sasha!" Tim exclaimed, eyes lighting up. He moved over to casually throw his arm around her shoulder, "And how is my favorite gal doing today?"

Leaving those two to chatter amongst themselves, Jon silently let go of a breath he had been holding. Sasha, if not completely distract Tim, would at least provide a bit of a buffer. She was always good to let him know when he was going just a bit too far and was starting to push Jon out of his comfort zone. Hopefully she would provide some of that same relief as an unknowing accomplice. 

As the door to the archives swung open for the third time since Jon had arrived, their heads all turned to watch as Martin walked in. The conversation trailed off, the three of them starting at him silently while he was frozen there in the doorway, fear slowly creeping onto his face. Jon decided it was better to bite the bullet rather than leave him there to squirm. 

"Ah, Mr. Blackwood," he found himself feeling very thankful that neither of them had changed their names in that moment, "Good of you to finally join us."

"I um, yes, good, I, uh," He held up a small paper bag that Jon didn't think he had been carrying earlier, "I brought some pastries...if, um...if anyone wanted any."

Martin always liked to tease about Jon not being great around people, and he would be lying if he were to disagree, but Martin wasn't exactly the worlds biggest extrovert either. He was always as nice and polite as he could be, but Jon could usually see the nerves beneath it. The pastries were probably a peace offering, helping to make a good first impression for Tim and Sasha.

As Tim surged towards the bag, it would appear they had worked as intended. "Don't mind if I do. Thanks for these..."

"Oh, Martin, Martin Blackwood." Martin filled in, answering Tim's unspoken question.

"Well, it's good to meet you, Martin." Tim pulled a pastry out of the bag before handing it back, "If these are anything to go by, I think we're going to get on just fine." 

Sasha came over to join them, taking her pick of the pastries, and starting up a new conversation. At least the three of them were getting along well enough, so that was at least one thing Jon could relax about. He liked the idea of Martin becoming friends with Tim and Sasha. Not having to worry about how they would get along also meant he could focus more not slipping up around them, which was a bonus. 

For now, he decided that the best wat to go about doing that was to stay out of their way.

"Right, well you all finish getting acquainted, I am going to get started on some actual work." he did his best to seem disinterested in what his assistants were doing, and began making his way to the small private office at the far side of the room, "If any of you need me for anything, I'll be in my office."

* * *

"Don't mind Scrooge, by the way, he's really not too bad."

Martin looked over to where Tim was now leaning on his desk, "I'm sorry?"

Tim jutted his thumb out, gesturing to the door to Jon's office. Martin had come to the conclusion that Jon's way of dealing with the situation at hand was going to be avoiding it as much as possible, as it had now been over an hour since he had retreated into his office, and he had a feeling it would be a while before he even considered coming back out. Not a bad strategy, quite frankly.

"Jon. Don't worry about him. He's always acting like he's got a stick up his ass, but he's not a bad guy. Even if he seems determined to make people think he is."

"Oh, um, ok. Thank you. For, um, for that heads up." Martin had to focus on keeping a relatively straight face so that he didn't start laughing at the comment.

"Yeah, he loves to act like he's some kind of academic robot with no emotions or anything, but deep down beneath all the stern expressions and blazers he actually is human." He quickly nodded his head over to the other occupied desk in their shared work space, "Hell, Sasha and I have even seen him smile half a dozen times. Haven't we?"

"Admittedly, several of those were because he had come found some weird, obscure piece of information he had been looking for, so I'm not sure how much that does for your 'not a work machine' point." She teased, not even bothering to look up for her laptop.

Enjoying where this conversation was going far too much, Martin felt brave enough to get a little more involved.

"What were the rest from?" He asked.

A grin that could easily be called devilish bloomed across Tim's face. He checked over his shoulder at the office door before he answered. 

"Cat videos."

Martin finally let himself laugh a little at this.

"Seriously?"

"Swear on my life, that man has the biggest soft spot for cat videos. He's like a middle aged mom on Facebook when he sees them. A particularly good one gets him downright giddy. But, of course, you didn't hear that from me." Adding a wink at the end for emphasis to that last part.

Though he did his best to look shocked, this was of course no surprise to Martin. He was well aware of Jon's feelings towards cats. Not that he would ever admit it outright, but they both knew half the reason he was so eager to find a new flat was because he was hoping to find somewhere that allowed pets. That might have it all the more entertaining to listen to other people talk about his fondness for cats like it was some well kept, scandalous secret. 

_This might not be too bad after all._

"Man, this guy really sounds like something else."

"Oh, you have no idea. I have never met anyone quite like Jonathan Sims before. Like, there was this one time where he..."

* * *

A few hours had passed since escaping to his office. Though he wasn't getting much if any work done at this point, with it being the first day in the archives and having only just gotten his office into some semblance of working condition, but still he was hesitant to leave just yet. It was easier to just stay in here and avoid the others all together. He knew Martin might be a concerned with him not coming out to take a lunch break or anything, but at least Sasha and Tim were mostly used to him eating lunch at his desk. There was nothing particularly unusual about that for him. But he was also supposed to be their boss, now. He was the head archivist, and they were his assistants. Maybe his usual workaholic tendencies wouldn't raise too many eyebrows, but to him it definitely seemed like it would be strange to not have his assistants assisting with anything. God, he wasn't even sure they had anything they knew to work on at this point. That was kind of his job to worry about now, that they had assignments and tasks to be doing. No, he couldn't just lock himself in the office the whole time he was there, he had to go back out there at some point.

He just didn't know what he was going to do when he got out there, yet.

Looking back over his desk, his eyes landed on the small stack of statements that he had already managed to look over. It was only five of them, and he really hadn't read them very closely, but it was something.

_Well, these are what we're here for, anyway_

_Am-dram please don't fail me now_

He grabbed the stack and flipped through them one more time, before making his way over to the door. As he stepped through into the larger room where the assistants desks were, their eyes all turned towards him. Quickly swallowing down the strange unease that crept over him, he began marching over to their desks.

"I would like for each of you to do some research into the details given in each of these statements. Names, dates, locations, any other information you notice that can possibly be double checked. I'd like to know if what is claimed in these statements is verifiable, or at the very least, somewhat feasible. Any follow ups from statement givers, or comments from any witnesses mentioned would also be preferable, but not necessary." 

He began handing out the statement files, with one going to Tim, and one going to Sasha. The other three, however, were handed to Martin, who only managed to respond with a confused look. Sasha was the one who eventually spoke up when she noticed what he had done.

"Jon, I'm sorry, but why are you giving Martin three statements, but only one to Tim and I? Shouldn't we spread these out a bit more even-"

"Well, Sasha, if you must know," he snapped, cutting her off before she could finish her thought "I would like to see what Martin is capable of. I am well aware what you are Tim can do. Martin, on the other hand, I am not, and I would like to know what all of my assistants are able to handle."

Looking at Martin, he still had some of that same shocked expression from when the files had been given to him, but when he looked into his eyes he knew he understood. They had discussed this over the weekend. Jon couldn't risk showing favoritism, and that meant he couldn't go easy on him. He had to be just as tough on Martin as he was on the other two. Maybe giving him three times the workload as the others may have been harsh, but to him it was also a good way to make sure he didn't appear like he was giving him special treatment. 

"Now, of course, I don't expect your reports to be completed at the same time, given the extra work. Thursday, Friday morning at the latest, should give you enough time to get at least the most important details for each of those, Martin. Sasha, Tim, I would like your reports my the end of the day tomorrow."

Before anyone else could get a word in, he turned and headed back towards his office. As he closed the door he could have sworn he heard Tim quietly say something that sounded like "told you he could be a piece of work", but he wasn't sure, so decided to leave it. Sitting back down at his desk, he let out a sigh and hoped that the extra work gave off the right message to Tim and Sasha. He also hoped that extended timeline meant he wasn't sleeping on the couch tonight. 

* * *

"Oh Peter, I wish you could see this, it is just so much fun to watch."

There was a loud groan from the other end of the call, "Really Elias, this is what you're calling me about? This is what was so important?"

"Come now, Peter, is it so wrong for me to want to talk to an old friend?"

"I thought you said that 'old friends' was an 'inaccurate term for our relationship'?"

"Yes yes, semantics, we can discuss that later. What I'm trying to say is that my plan is going swimmingly so far. It's only been three days but my archivist is practically squirming from that feeling of being _watched_ , he hardly even leaves his office trying to avoid it." Elias's voice was filled with delight as he thought of how his little game in the basement of the institute was going, "The assistant does a much better job of hiding his discomfort, but it is still there, just below the surface. Of course it's nothing too substantial that it is offering The Eye quite yet, but it is still so very entertaining."

"Until they find out you can't actually fire them and they stop caring about your silly little rules."

"Do you really think I hadn't considered that? I simply have to make sure they don't find out about that, at least not for a good long while. Really Peter, do you think so little of me that-" But before he could finish, there was the click of Peter ending the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan Jarchavist Sims: *exists*  
> Me, looking to project my sensory issues: "it's free real-estate :)" 
> 
> And don't worry, Elias isn't going to do too much sketchy stuff. Sure he's the "villain" here, but I just want to have fun with this, so I'm going to have his as more of a nuisance than anything.  
> Anyway, I hope you're all doing well and staying safe out there. Fingers crossed I'll have the next chapter up for you guys soon.


	4. Martin Says: Self Care Is Important

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is overworking himself, and Martin is not pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello darlings, this chapter I offer you: a mother-hen of a husband, an overcompensating archivist, and Tim<3\. Next chapter? Who knows.

Noon had rolled around, and then one o'clock, then two, and still the door to the office remained close. He had let Jon locking himself in his office slide for the first week, because he knew this was just his way to deal with their situation, but after three weeks it was beginning to get excessive. Martin had been aware that Jon was in the habit of letting his work get in the way of him taking care of himself, he just didn't know it could get this bad. Sure he was probably eating and drinking something while he was in there, but was it enough? Jon had always been bad at making sure he eat and drank enough, and even when he did he struggled to keep much weight on him. Sure, he was a grown man, and he could take care of himself, and maybe Martin was getting overly worried about it, but he was his husband, dammit! He had a right to be worried! 

"Hey, weird question, I hope you don't mind, but does Jon usually work through his lunch like this?" He leaned a little across the gap between the desks to as the other two, "I know it's not really my business but, I don't know, don't you find it kinda...weird, I guess, that pretty much the only time we see him is when he's giving us statements to look up?"

Tim and Sasha exchanged a glance before turning to Martin with a shrug.

"It's a bit weird, I guess, if you're not used to it." Sasha said nonchalantly, "He's pretty much always been like this. Did it all the time back in research. I think he just tends to get a bit lost in whatever he's doing and loses track of time or something. I wouldn't worry about it too much."

_Oh for the love of god, Jon_

Sasha had no idea how right she was about that. It had become apparent to Martin quite quickly that if Jon had set his mind to something, there was very little that could be done to stop him, and if it came at the expense of his well being, so be it. On more occasions than he would care to remember Martin had had to practically drag him to bed after he had become fixated on researching some topic and decided it was completely appropriate to stay up until 3:30 AM on his laptop Googling it.

And now Martin knew it was just as bad, if not even worse, at work. Realistically he had known that is probably was, but there was a difference between being aware that something is probably true, and seeing it for yourself. 

He couldn't let him do this to himself. When it had been in research he had at least been around other people, and had a more reasonably sized workload. Here in the archives, however, he was able to lock himself away from the others, leaving himself to drown in the mountains of statements that had formed in the dimly lit little office. His eyes were already beginning to look wearier, and Martin knew that he would sooner burn himself out completely before he would admit how much this job was getting to him. He had to do _something_. Anything, really, to remind him that he still needed to look after himself. He just needed to be carful about it, nothing too big or obvious. 

Only it was obvious, to him at least, when he realized the perfect thing to do. He was amazed he hadn't thought of it sooner.

"I'm going to go make some tea, would anyone like some?"

"I'm good, but thanks anyway." Tim answered at the same time Sasha said "Oh, that would be great, thank you."

Martin pushed himself up from his desk, "Ok, so, Tim's good for tea, and Sasha, how do you take yours?"

"Little bit of milk and sugar, not too much."

"Alright, got it, be back in a sec."

He headed off to what passed as their breakroom down in the basement. They were all pretty sure, based on the size of it, that it had once been a storage room, renovated with a fridge, some dingy counters and cabinets, and horrible florescent overhead lights. It served its purpose, though, giving them somewhere to store their lunch and sit that wasn't their desk, so none of them complained too much. Plus, the kettle they had put down here was actually very nice.

After a few minutes he returned to his desk with the mugs of tea. The first was handed to Sasha, and the next was placed on his own desk, but that left the third one in his hands.

Tim noticed it and looked a bit confused, "Oh, Martin, thanks, but really I'm fine, you didn't need to-"

"No no, I heard you, it's ok. Actually, I, um, well I thought Jon might appreciate a cup."

Both of them were now starting at him wide eyed when he said that.

"Oh, uh, yeah ok. That's...that's honestly really nice of you." Tim probably didn't mean to sound so shocked, but Martin couldn't really blame him. Jon loved to make himself seem like he was so self-sufficient and never needed anyone's help, and that kind of persona tended not to attract many gestures like this one.

Stopping by the door Martin paused to listen. It was a thick enough door so that, with everyone at their desks, they couldn't hear each other. If you got up close to it, though, you could usually hear when Jon was recording a statement, which they had all found useful so as not to disturb him too often. So, Martin listened carefully for a moment, and when he was confident that there was silence on the other side, knocked a few times. 

"Come in!" Came in a harsh voice from the other side.

Martin pushed the door open carefully and took a few steps inside. It was a strangely dimly lit office, with the brightest light source being the old fashioned bankers lamp on the desk, though Martin suspected that Jon preferred it this way. It had also now taken on Jon's personal brand of organized chaos. Most importantly, in Martin's opinion, the desk had been positioned in a way that, until you actually stepped into the office, it was almost impossible to actually see Jon, and therefore, could also not see his expression as Martin walked in with the mug.

"Jon, I was making some tea and thought you might like a cup, so..." Setting the mug down on the desk he kept his tone as meek sounding as he could, but his face told a very different story.

Looking from the cup and then back to Martin, Jon looked as if he were a child who was caught steeling sweets from the kitchen. He knew Martin did not approve of his tendency to overwork, and it seemed he had just come to the realization that he would no longer be able to hide it from him. 

Clearing his throat, Jon did his best to put his work face back on, "I...yes, uh, thank you, Martin."

With a quick smile, he stepped back out of the office, shutting the door behind him. He'd have to remember to buy more tea for the breakroom.

* * *

After a week of Martin bringing him tea with an expression that spoke as clearly as any words could to what he thought of his work ethic, Jon had begun taking short breaks outside of his office. There was still tea being place on his desk every after afternoon, but he wasn't going to complain about that anytime soon. Still, here he was, in the breakroom, attempting to relax for a few minutes between statements. Although, it was questionable how much good it was really doing him, since as weird as some of those statements made him feel, the lights in this room made him feel worse. At least it meant he would avoid another talking to from Martin about self care. 

"Wow, so it is true, you have actually been leaving your desk. What's gotten into you?" Tim asked loudly as he stepped into the breakroom. His back was to Jon as he reached into the fridge to dig out his container of leftover take away, so he was at least spared the intensity of the eye roll his comment had received.

"Yes, Tim, I do occasionally take breaks." 

Putting his lunch into the microwave, Tim turned back to face him, one eyebrow raised slightly, "I'm not saying you don't. What I am saying, however, is that in the nearly three years I've known you, I think I have seen you in a breakroom maybe seven times. Maybe. And probably five of those it was just to get your lunch and then retreat back to your desk. I'm honestly glad, really. The way you keep locking yourself in that office of yours, I was really starting to wonder if you were avoiding us."

The feeling of eyes on the back of his neck that he had been trying so hard to ignore suddenly got a little stronger. Jon just hummed in response, not trusting himself to not say something that would make it worse in that moment. It was ridiculous, really, just an overreaction. Tim wasn't implying anything by it, he couldn't be. They had been so careful over the past month, there was no way any of the others could be suspicious of anything. Sure Martin brought him tea, but he was so mindful of how he did it, making sure to never imply it was anything more than a kind gesture. 

Jon, for his part, had been doing everything he could to convince the others that he had absolutely no interest in Martin. Dismissive was one way to describe the way he had been treating Martin while they were here. Borderline cruel could be another. He didn't enjoy doing it, but it made sense in his mind. If the others believed that he didn't even like Martin, there was no way they would suspect anything else was going on. It didn't make him feel great to act that way, but that was why he spent so much time apart from them, so he wouldn't have to do it much. And he and Martin had discussed it, discussed that it was all in act, that he didn't mean the things he was saying. Jon had even taken to discussing Martin's reports with him at home, so that they could go over them without having to put on the act. 

Tim sat down in the chair across from Jon at the cheep, little wooden table, "So, how's the new job treating you? Stressful enough yet? Your hair looks like it's gotten even greyer lately."

"Thank you, Tim." Sarcasm clear in his tone, "And the new position is fine."

"And how are you liking bossing us around so far? Bet you're enjoying that."

"Again, it is fine. Your work has been satisfactory so far, so it has been fine." 

Tim hummed at him, aware that Jon was obviously avoiding talking too much about his feelings surrounding his job. It was rare that Jon talked about it feelings about anything, so Tim knew it wasn't worth it to try and pry too much.

"Well, I guess you knew what you were getting into with Sasha and me. So how about Martin, how are you finding him so far? Because I've gotta say, me and Sash love working with him, he's great."

It took a lot of effort to not give into the swelling warmth in his chest at that last comment. Part of him wanted so badly to just start rambling on about all of the many ways Martin was indeed great, but he couldn't do that now. He would definitely have to let Martin know that Tim had said this later, but for now, Jon just took a deep breath and focused on keeping a stern expression on his face.

"Well he at least manages to get his reports in on time. Most of the time, that is. He's been competent enough, so far, so as long as he is able to continue to do that, you and Sasha shouldn't have to worry about your new friend." He hoped he had managed to put enough distain into his tone to sound convincing. 

"Really, boss, is that all you can say? Gets his work in on time? 'Competent enough'?"

Jon's eyebrows furrowed a bit, "Yes?"

"Come on, the man brings you tea everyday, and that's the best compliment you can give him?"

"I do believe he brings you and Sasha tea as well. And it's not like I asked him to do it."

"And it's not like you turn it down either. They guy is sweet, Jon, and you know it."

"As long as him being 'sweet' doesn't interfere with his work, I don't really see how it's any of my business."

Tim threw his head back with a frustrated groan, "God, I swear you must be allergic to kindness or something, Jon. I will never know why you insist on resisting other people being nice to you. The man is nothing but lovely to you, and all you do is get on his case about his work. Do you at least thank him for the tea?"

"Yes I thank him for the tea! I'm not completely heartless, Tim, despite what you might like to believe." Quickly glancing at his watch, Jon stood, eager to get out of this conversation, "Now if you will excuse me, I need to get back to work."

* * *

**Tim Stoker (7:47pm):** "I don't think Jon likes Martin much"

**Tim Stoker (7:47pm):** "Honestly can't figure out why, but he just doesn't"

**Tim Stoker (7:48pm):** "Martin's just such a sweetheart! He's like some 6'2" teddy bear, what's not to love?"

**Sasha James (7:49pm):** "I know what you mean. I think it's just that he's new. You know how Jon gets with new people."

**Tim Stoker (7:50pm):** "Yeah that's true"

**Tim Stoker (7:50pm):** "Wait"

**Tim Stoker (7:50pm):** "Idea"

**Tim Stoker (7:50pm):** "Do you know what we should do?"

**Sasha James (7:54pm):** "What?"

**Tim Stoker (7:55pm):** "I think maybe we should partake in a little Department Bonding Activity"

**Sasha James (7:56pm):** "And by bonding activity you mean???"

**Tim Stoker (7:58pm):** "Think you'd be able to convince Jon to get drinks with us????"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of this fic I am working under the idea that Martin is the one person Jon has good communication skills with, because as much as I could see diving into the potential angst of what I have set up here, I really just want to indulge in my silly concept here hahaha.  
> Anyways, hope you guys are enjoyed this chapter, and hope you're all doing well. I'm going to try and keep updating quickly since, like I said, I really want to just bang this fic out while I have the motivation to do so, but I might be slowing down a little bit over the next little while, as my reading week break is over now so it's back to lectures for me. I should still be able to get chapters up pretty quick, but it just might be a few more days than before, so sorry about that.


	5. Archival Department Bonding Activities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim takes the crew out for some bonding time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, heads up for this one, it involves alcohol, drinking, getting drunk, etc. It's all lighthearted and fun, but if that sort of stuff makes you uncomfortable I just wanted to let you know. 
> 
> And btw I love that after stating "oh my study break is over, probably going to be a bit slower on updates" I manage to get the next chapter up pretty much 24 hours later. Plus I'm pretty sure it's the longest chapter so far, so that's even better.

The week had come and gone much too quick for Jon's liking, and now here they were, at the end of the workday on Friday. Usually that wasn't of much consequence to him, since he usually spent at least an extra hour at the institute, determined to get just one of statement done. This particular Friday, however, any plans to do that were interrupted by an insistent knocking at his office door. 

"Yes?"

Tim threw the door open, and leaned into the room, holding himself upright with the doorframe, "Well are you coming, or what? Don't think we forgot that you promised to join the rest of us."

"I figured it was the only way to get you and Sasha to stop pestering me about it."

"The reason is irrelevant, a promise is a promise. Now come on, statements can wait, drinks cannot."

With a long sigh he dropped the file he had been holding back on his desk, and began gathering up his stuff, "I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"Well we did, so stop complaining and get your coat on, we're all waiting for you."

* * *

The pub they had chosen wasn't the nicest, but it was a reasonable walking distance from the institute, so it was at least convenient. Martin had suggested it, say that along with the location, it was also pretty cheep, which was a good selling point for a group of underpaid archive workers. The reason he conveniently left out when he had brought it up was that, even on a Friday night, this place tended to be much quieter compared to more popular spots, and therefore would not be nearly as uncomfortable for Jon. He had never been a fan of crowded, noisy places, so Martin was glad he had convinced the others to not take them anywhere that would be too overwhelming.

They settled themselves into a booth in the back corner. The red faux leather was worn and cracked, and the light wood of the table was visibly stained in a variety of spots, but was still comfortable overall. Martin had ended up against the wall, Tim on his other side, and Jon directly across from him. Sasha slide into the booth beside Jon as she returned with their first round ("First of many" Tim had assured them). 

"Well," Tim raised his glass ceremoniously, "Here's to team bonding exercises."

Sasha was the first to raise her glass in response, "Cheers to that, mate."

They toasted their glasses, and all began to drink. No one spoke as they took their first few sips, but Martin didn't mind, it gave him a chance to collect his thoughts. It would take a little extra focus to keep the lie going with alcohol in his system. He would also have to keep a close eye on Jon, since he did not have much of an alcohol tolerance. It was lucky they were sitting across from each other; it would have been pretty hard to explain away a drunk Jon snuggling into his side as he so often did after a few drinks. 

The conversation picked up little by little, staying mostly casual as the second around of drinks landed on the table.

"So, Martin," Tim placed his glass back on the table and clapped a hand on Martin's shoulder, "How are you finding being down in the archives with us? We haven't been giving you too much trouble, have we?"

"Oh, no, it's been great so far. You and Sasha have been lovely."

"Aw, thank you Martin." Sasha beamed at him from across the table.

"Yeah, you're too sweet, big guy." Tim nodded over in Jon's direction, "And how about our esteemed leader over here? You surviving his perpetual onslaught of grumpiness?"

"Oh, um, yes, yeah, it's been...it's been good ."

"Really? Good? From what I've seen he's been going even harder on you that he usual does."

"Well...I-"

Before Martin could finish, Tim cut back it, "Gotta be those rugged good looks, eh? Softens the blow a little bit."

"Tim!" Jon snapped at him. All Martin could manage to do was sputter out some disjointed sounds as he felt his face go red hot. 

"What? We all know the only reason you get away with being such a tit at work is because of that pretty face of yours." Tim was grinning ear to ear at this point, eyes narrowed slightly. He was obviously enjoying watching Jon struggle to respond to him.

"Tim, leave the poor man alone." Sasha chimed in, "You know he hates it when you do this."

"Yeah yeah, alright." Slumping further back into his seat, Tim turned his head to face Martin, "I've known this man your years now, and somehow he continues to remain impervious to my charms. I've tried everything, he just will not budge. Not his type or something like that. Jon, you know, you could have just told me if you were straight or whatever."

At that last comment Jon's jaw dropped, his face turning utterly shocked, "I...First of all, Tim, I am not nor have I ever been _straight_ -"

Martin couldn't help but laugh at the scene unfolding in front of him. He didn't worry about it too much, since Tim and Sasha were laughing along with him. There was something incredibly absurd about watching your tipsy boss attempt to defend himself against getting called heterosexual. What the others couldn't possibly know was how entertaining it was for Martin to watch _his husband_ doing it. 

Sasha rubbed a hand on Jon's arm, trying to settle him down a little, "Alright, ok Jon, calm down. I promise that none of us actually think you're straight. Tim's just trying to get a rise out of you. And Tim, you leave him alone. It was hard enough convincing him to come here, I am not having him storm out on us because you don't know when to stop."

Tim rolled his eyes, though there was nothing but fondness in them when he looked back to Sasha, "Yes, mom, whatever you say."

* * *

"Is this really a good idea?"

"Of course it's a good idea. You think I'm missing the opportunity to get that one drunk?" Tim gestured towards Jon, "I thought the point of this was to get him to finally relax and let loose?"

"I do believe the reasoning you told me was that this was supposed to be a 'bonding activity' for the department." Jon's words were as steady as they had been at the start of the night, but his had was a little more lethargic as it reached for the shot glass Tim had slid towards him.

"Whatever, same thing, now drink."

As instructed, he took up the little glass and downed the shot. It burned as it went down, but Jon couldn't find it in him to care much, the sensation was numbed by the drinks that had come before it. He wasn't even sure what Tim had brought them just now, but he could assume it was something strong. 

The other three shot glasses hit the table in quick succession after Jon's. They joined the variety of other glasses that had built up on the table.

Sasha leaned over and bumped her shoulder against Jon's, "So, how are we finding the bonding activity? You at least having a little fun?"

"It's been...yes, actually, this has been surprisingly enjoyable. Mostly." A quick glare was directed to Tim, who just shrugged with a satisfied grin. 

"Good! Tim was right, frankly, it's good for you to relax a little bit, have some fun. Plus it's been nice getting to know everyone better." 

Jon knew what she actually meant by that last sentence. By 'everyone' she actually meant Martin. She and Tim had been friends since Tim had started at the institute, and they had worked with Jon for about as long. Martin was the odd one out by that standard. A lot of the conversations that had gone on so far had been about him, asking him questions, trying to get to know him. They had also been dragging Jon into them, attempting to get him to engage with whatever mundane topic was at hand. He wasn't sure exactly what those two were up to, since they obviously seemed to be up to something. What he was sure, though, was that this boded well for his and Martin's efforts so far. If Tim and Sasha were trying to force them to get to know each other, surely they couldn't suspect there was anything going on between them.

"How about you, Martin?" Sasha asked, "Having a good time?"

"Oh, yes, this has actually been really nice. Been a while since I've gone out with friends like this." 

"Now, why do I have a hard time believing that?" Tim leaned in against Martin's side a little more, brows drawn in a curious look.

"What do you mean?"

"You not doing stuff like this. I would have thought you'd be out like this all the time."

The confusion on Martin's face became clearer, "Why would you think that?"

"I guess I just figured a guy like you would have a lot of people wanting to spend time around him. I mean, come on, guy like you, I'm surprised people aren't begging to spend time with you." As Tim spoke, his eyes drifted up and down the length of Martin's body, and Jon suddenly aware of just to close he was leaning into him. 

Jealous is not a word that Jon liked using to describe himself. It felt too harsh, too possessive. So the burning in his chest and clenching of his jaw wasn't jealousy. No, definitely not jealousy. It was...protectiveness, yes, that was it, protectiveness. 

He knew he didn't truly need to protect Martin from Tim; Tim was a good person, and even if having a few drinks in him tended to send his flintiness into overdrive, he would never knowingly do something that made someone uncomfortable. The problem was that he probably didn't know he might have been making Martin uncomfortable. Martin was unfortunately good at hiding discomfort, and wasn't great about telling people about it either. Jon could only recognize the little signs from years of figuring them out. So maybe Tim was just flirting a little, Jon still felt protective of Martin. _His_ Martin. Who _clearly_ didn't like the little comments dropped here and there, or the way Tim looked at him all suave and suggestive, or the way that Tim was leaning into his side the way Jon _so_ wanted to do right now...

Ok, maybe he was a little jealous.

But still, Martin didn't like the flirting, and Jon was not just going to let that slide. He just had to think of a way to get Martin out of this that wouldn't be suspicious. He had considered saying something like "Martin, you mentioned a spouse to me, how is he?" since he knew Tim would never knowingly flirt with a married person, but he decided against it. Besides the fact that it would raise questions as to when Martin would have mentioned this, Martin had also been avoiding talking about any relationship the whole night. If he had decided that he wasn't going to tell the others, Jon did not want to put him in a position where he was forced to.

That also ruled out mentioning the ring. Martin had still been wearing his wedding band since he'd been working in the archives, but it seemed like no one had really noticed it. If Martin wasn't admitting to having a spouse in general, the ring would fall into the same problem. He would have either been forced to talk about a relationship he was avoiding mentioning, or he would just make up some excuse about it being a family heirloom or something like that, which would do nothing to dissuade Tim.

Letting his eyes drift over the table, Jon though of something that just might work to distract Tim from Martin.

"Hey Tim," Jon leaned across the table slightly, placing his upturned shot glass in front of Tim with a small clink, "up for another round?"

Tim's eyes darted from the Jon, to the glass, and back to Jon. A devilish look spread across his face as he began to get up from the booth.

_God I'm going to regret this_

* * *

Jon knew there were people talking next to him, he just didn't have a clue what they were saying. Was that Sasha talking? Yeah, Sasha, pretty sure that was Sasha.

There was one thing that he was absolutely certain of, however, and that was that Martin looked very, very, _very_ pretty right now. He always looked pretty, but sometimes Jon forgot exactly how pretty he was. Jon didn't think he had ever known anyone who was anywhere near as beautiful as Martin was. 

The way that he smiled made Jon's chest swell with warmth and love. He felt like he could lose himself staring at those dimples at the corners of his mouth, at the way the skin around his eyes would crinkle, and the way that his eyes themselves would seem to just sparkle.

And _god_ those eyes. Jon had never known a more stunning shade of blue. Although in the dim, warm lighting of the pub the bits of green in them shone through even more. It just made them all the more amazing to look at. So many peoples eyes seemed so hostile, like they were sizing him up, but Martin's were just so safe. Like he just look into those eyes and all of his problems would just disappear.

"Jon?"

His hair was just so pretty, too. It looked so soft, Jon wanted nothing more than to just run his fingers through it. Those beautiful soft curls, that colour that he could never accurately describe. Too light to be brown, just a little to dark to really be blond, and just red enough to make you want to call it ginger. Somehow never quite being able to describe it in a way that did it justice made it all the more captivating to Jon.

" _Jon_?"

He never understood why Martin would get self-conscious about his freckles. They were so incredible. They looked rather faint right now, but Jon could still see how they made little constellations across his face. And down his neck, as well. And covering his shoulder, and his back...

"Jon!"

Sasha's voice finally broke through the daze he had found himself in. He had no idea how long he had been starting at Martin's face for, so he just hoped the others hadn't thought it was too strange. 

"Alright, I think it might be time to call it a night. Pretty sure that's enough for the two of you." There was a noticeable protest from Tim, though Jon couldn't quite make out what he was saying. He wasn't totally sure if it was because of how many glasses were in front of Tim, or because there was the same number of glasses in front of himself.

They all began to slide out of the booth, standing slowly, but even still it seemed it was too fast for Jon. The world pitched as he tried to get up, sending him tumbling into the nearest thing, which happened to wrap a familiar arm around his shoulders to try and steady him. Tim appeared to need significantly less help standing, thanks to his considerably high alcohol tolerance, but he still slung and arm around Sasha, preventing himself from swaying too violently.

Though he didn't remember putting his coat on, or even walking away from where they had been by the booth, he found himself being ushered outside into the cold air of the night. 

Sasha and Martin were no where near as intoxicated as Tim or himself, since they had not been involved in most of the shots that the two of the had purchased. It was fortunate, really, because Jon was pretty sure that neither Tim nor himself would have been able to flag a taxi at this stage of the night.

"I'm going to make sure this one gets home," Sasha said to Martin as she helped Tim into the cab, "are you able to help Jon out? I know it's kinda weird, but I would honestly feel better knowing someone helped him get home safe. Especially since I'm not even sure he can stand on his on at this point."

Martin tightened his grip on Jon ever so slightly. Nothing that would have been noticeable to anyone watching, but enough for Jon to feel it. It took all the focus he could manage to not let himself melt into the sensation while Sasha and Tim could still see them.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure he makes it home in one piece. I'll even text you once he's in his flat so that you know he's home safe."

"Thank you, Martin, you're seriously the best." She said as she got into the car, "And you get home safe, too. And drink some water! Night!"

Before he could fully register that the others had left, Jon felt himself being loaded into a cab, with Martin beside him. He listen as Martin gave the address, taking in his surroundings.

"j'st us?" He managed to mumble, the words slurring together and his voice a bit too quiet.

"Yes, it's just us, the others went home."

"cool, cool." Was all he was able to say before he flopped against Martin. He tipped his head up slightly from where it was leaned again Martin's arm, just enough to look at his husband with the best puppy-dog eyes he could do. Martin quietly laughed at the pleading expression, but wrapped his arm around him regardless, leaning down to give Jon a soft kiss. Satisfied with the affection he was finally able to receive, Jon let himself drift off for the rest of the ride to the flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Sasha is the mom friend, I have decided this. She's the most competent of the bunch of them at this point, she must take care of her wonderful idiot boys. I also attempted to write flirting, but turns out that's not the easiest thing to do when you're a socially anxious asexual who hasn't been on a date in nearly four years. Sorry Tim, you're an ultra chad king and I could not do you justice.


	6. Rings and Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha and Tim notice certain accessories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really don't do anything to indicate this, but the two scenes in this one are supposed to be like a few days apart. Fingers crossed that it all makes sense. Enjoy!

It was quiet in the basement, just the clack of computer keys and the drone of florescent lights. Tim was out of the office working on a follow up, so there wasn't quite as much talking going on. There was still the occasional bit of small talk, just no where near the usual chatter between the assistants. Martin didn't mind too much, he and Sasha did well working in their comfortable silence without Tim trying to fill it. Tim was really a wonderful person, and plenty of fun to work with, but he had to admit that they usually got a little bit more work done when he was out doing his thing. Usually.

An exasperated groan slipped out of Martin as he clicked away from yet another dead end. It seemed that the details in this statement just didn't _want_ to be confirmed, since every time he thought he had finally found something the people and places mentioned, it was never relevant to this case. Sure research wasn't exactly his field, but he had never had this much trouble with a statement before. Usually he could at least find some evidence that the people and places mentioned in it at least _existed_ , if nothing else. 

The sound of chair wheels started across the room, and Martin looked up to see Sasha rolling herself over towards his desk. She pulled himself beside him, glancing over his computer screen.

"Alright, what seems to be the problem here?"

A small part of Martin felt embarrassed at the thought that he was so obviously struggling with this that his coworker had felt the need to fix it for him. The rest of him, though, was incredibly grateful. He knew Sasha was more than happy to help when she could, always quick to offer up a tip or trick she'd picked up from all her years in academia. She had a knack for making him feel a little bit less like he was in over his head here. He scooted his own chair over slightly so she could get a better look, "It's nothing, really, I just...I can't find _anything_. I know I'm still pretty new to research, but...but this is just crazy, I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

Sasha hummed, looking between the screen and the case file, "That is really weird. Here, let me see what I can do. I'm sure you're not doing anything wrong, these can just be tricky sometimes. I've come across a couple so far that have given me issues like this."

She slid herself in front of the computer and started clicking around. She pulled up a variety of databases - some Martin had never seen, and a few he had a feeling she should not have had access to - and got to work trying to find names and locations. There was the occasional quiet, triumphant as she searched, and a few irritated huffs. Martin couldn't help but admire how she seemed to be completely in her element doing this, like watching an artist work with the medium they'd mastered. Eventually she pushed herself back from the desk a little, gesturing towards the screen.

"There we go. It's not everything, but it's at least a start." 

For a moment he just stared in awe at the documents she had pulled up in the different tabs, "Oh my god. Sasha you...you're an absolute lifesaver. How did you do this?"

She shrugged, "Sometimes you just have to know where to look."

"Seriously, I don't know what I'd do without you. If it weren't for you and Tim I honestly don't think I'd survive down here."

"Don't worry about it, Martin, I'm always happy to help." She smiled at him in that kind way she did when she was being earnest, "If you asked me, I'd say you're doing pretty damn good. This is pretty different different from what you were doing in the library, I'd imagine."

"Yeah, you wouldn't be wrong there. Wasn't exactly doing much research up there. Mostly just organizing things. Got pretty good at it honestly. I think that might be why Jon seems to task me with working with the actual archives so much, compared to you two." There was a pause as he considered his next words, "Either that or he just want me on as few case reports as possible."

"Oh, Martin, I'm sure it's not that" Her hand rubbed his shoulder reassuringly, "Look, I know he can be a bit...you know, like Jon, but trust me, it's not your fault. He's not exactly great with people, and this new job doesn't appear to be helping that fact at all, and it means he can be, well, quite frankly he can be a bit of a prick sometimes. It's nothing you did, I promise. I honestly think it's just that he's not used to you yet, he'll settle down eventually."

Martin had to admit, even though it wasn't actually necessary, the assurance was still really nice. Sasha and Tim had both been trying to soften the fake irritation Jon had been showing him over the past month at work. It was comforting to know that they really seemed to have his back and were ready to support him however they could. It made him feel a little less out of place in the archives. Plus, he couldn't deny the strange entertainment he got out of being told that Jon simply 'wasn't used to him yet' when he had known Jon for at least a year and a half longer than Sasha. 

"Thanks, I really appreciate that. But to be honest, I really don't mind the case report thing. I actually kinda like working with all the files and boxes and such, it can be pretty satisfying, really. Bit more up my alley. It's just more..." he made a vague gesture with his hands to the air in front of him, "Hands on, you know?"

"Yeah I guess that makes sense." As she let out a giggle, Martin watched as her eyes settled on his hands, "Hey, that's a really nice ring."

His heart picked up it's pace a little, and that feeling of being watched was back. Neither of them had noticed his ring, so far, or at least hadn't said anything about it. It had been a relief, since though he didn't want to have to stop wearing his ring, but he also wasn't totally sure what he wanted to say if they asked him about it.

"Oh, uhh, t-thanks, yeah, it's a nice ring. I think so, that is..." His thoughts trailed off as he unconsciously began to fidget with it. 

"Are you married?" After she asked that, Martin obviously did not do as good a job as he had hoped he had at disguising his shock, as she began to try to backtrack on it, "If you don't mind me asking, of course! Sorry, I didn't mean to pry, god, that was probably really inappropriate of me. It just looked like a wedding band, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed-"

"No, no, don't worry, it's ok! Really, it's ok. Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you, I guess I just don't get asked a lot." He took a deep breath and collected himself, making his voice as steady as he could "I, um, I am actually, yes, I'm married."

Panic was raising up through his chest. He would have preferred to avoid this topic, for a while longer at least. Maybe it was a little reckless of him to keep wearing his ring if he had hoped to not talk about it, but putting it on was just such a normal part of him getting read in the morning he didn't even think about it most days. 

He knew how he needed to handle this, though. Plenty of years of dealing with conversation like this, ones where he still wanted to be polite even though he would really have preferred to not be talking about. Talking to people at work, talking to his mother, talking _about_ his mother. Just keep it vague enough that he gave them their answers without actually saying anything at all.

"Ok, cool, cool..." Sasha seemed to be floundering a little in the conversation as well, probably still recovering from earlier, "Sorry, I just...I didn't know, I was curious, didn't mean to pry..."

"It's ok, really, it's not a big deal. I haven't really talked about it, I guess. Never really came up. Must have just...forgot to mention it." 

"Alright, nice. So, um, how long's it been? If you don't mind me asking, of course." Her voice lacked its usual confidence.

"Oh, no, I don't mind. It's been almost two years, now. We've been married for almost two years, that is. Known each other longer than that, obviously. About six, been together for most of that. But, um, yeah, to answer your question, two years." The tension between them slipped away a bit with the answer, Sasha feeling a little less like she had overstepped a boundary. 

"Cool, that's really nice." She nodded, her voice still slightly hesitant. 

Martin couldn't help as a fond smile crept onto his face, "Yeah, it's been really great."

"Well, if that face is anything to go by," She teased, "They must be pretty great."

Though his face went a little hotter with the reddening blush he new must be there, Martin managed to throw a jokingly defensive look Sasha's way, "And now, what face exactly would that be?"

"The one where you go all sappy just at the thought of them. Come on, Martin, you look absolutely smitten, it's adorable. Ok, I have got to know what's so special about them. What are they like?"

"They're...well they're just..." He thought it over for a second. There really wasn't much of a reason to lie, so he didn't, "Wonderful. Really. I mean, they're brilliant, first of all. I think that was one of the first things I admired about him. How clever he was. Well, that, and, you know, he was rather nice to look at. But he's just...he's so kind, and he cares so much. Honestly, sometimes I swear he'd do just about anything if he thought it meant I'd be happy. And he also happens to be stubborn as a goat, so there's not much I can do to stop him from trying just about everything. He...he makes me feel _seen_ , if that makes any sense. Like he honestly understands me, and he _wants_ to understand me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve someone like him, he's...wonderful. Truly wonderful."

It was easy to tell the truth about this. Easy to sing his husbands praises to anyone willing to listen. And, Martin reminded himself, it was probably helping with his act more than anything. Even if everything he had said was true, he couldn't think of a description that was any less fitting to the way Jon acted while they were here.

"Oh my god. Martin." Sasha's voice was practically dripping with second-hand affection, "You are seriously too sweet. God, I hope I find someone who will talk about me like that after six years. Honestly, he's incredibly lucky to have you."

Martin was certain his cheeks were cherry red by now, "I...well...thanks, Sasha. I'm...I'm lucky to have him too."

"Alright, I need to get back to work. I think that's about as much sappiness as I can take for one day." With that she push herself away from his desk, rolling her chair back towards her own computer, "Let me know if you need anymore help with that statement, ok?"

"I will. Thank you again."

"Anytime." 

* * *

There was knocking at the door to the office, and Jon wished for nothing more than to send whoever it was away. It was already late in the work day, and for the past week he'd been putting in extra hours trying desperately to work through the mountains of statements he had growing around him, so he felt absolutely exhausted. Quite frankly, he knew that he looked it too. Blazer had been shed, along with his tie, and the top few buttons of his shirt undone. His hair was hanging down into his face, and no amount of running his hands through it seemed to do anything to tame it. He didn't even want to think about what his horribly slummed posture added to the picture.

But sending them away would have been unprofessional, and if he couldn't maintain his dignity right now, he could at least remain professional. 

"Come in."

Tim stepped into the office, his cheery demeanor feeling as though it was mocking Jon. Where Tim got all of his energy from, Jon would never know, but it certainly was useful for getting things done.

"Hey, bossman," He said, accompanied with a few finger guns, "Just finished up with this case, figured I'd bring you the report before I head out."

Another statement for the pile. Excellent.

"Yes, thank you, Tim."

He placed the case file on one of the stacks on his desk. He'd been hoping to get that pile done that evening. Maybe if he stayed a little later than he had first planned he could manage it. Sure, Martin might kill him if he stayed at work all night, but at least death-by-worried-husband was preferable to being crushed under an avalanche of paperwork.

Tim whistled at the sight on if all, "Jeez, it's really starting to pile up in here."

"I have noticed that, yes."

"Listen, I'm just saying, if you ever want some help with this stuff, we are your assistants, we're here to assist. If you ever wanted us to record some for you-"

"Absolutely not."

"- _or anything else,_ " he added a bit more pointed, "you just need to tell us. Seriously, you look, like, extremely tired."

"Excuse me?" Sure, maybe he was tired, and he knew he looked it, but that didn't mean he needed other people to point it out to him.

"Hey, don't worry, I'm not saying it's a bad look. Quite frankly, I think this is the coolest I've ever seen you look. I know you're all about that stuffy, uptight professor vibe, but this whole...disheveled academic thing kinda suits you. I mean, the hair, the shirt. Hell, I don't think I've ever seen you wear jewelry before."

Jon turned to him, confused by that last comment, "Wait, what?"

"Your necklace? You're wearing a necklace right now." He pointed to a spot on his chest just below his undone buttons. 

"What?" The question came out a bit more grave this time. His hand came up, patting the spot where his ring usually sat against his skin, feeling where metal had gone slightly cold from dangling outside of his shirt. Between his open buttons and his slouching, it must have slipped out without him noticing.

"That necklace, that you apparently forgot you were wearing. It's pretty cool, looks good on you. What is that on there? A ring?"

"Nothing." The answer came out too quickly and Jon went to shove the chain back into his shirt, redoing a few buttons for good measure. That necklace had stayed safely tucked away for as long as he had been wearing it, sometimes even he forgot it was there. And now Tim was here, staring at it, like he was trying to find out its secrets. 

Tim's face was tight with confusion, "What?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"...So...not a ring?"

"No...it's...well...well yes, it is, but I don't see why that's important." His words came out more defensive than he would have liked. 

"Ok...not sure why you're acting all weird about this-"

"I am not being weird!"

"You are absolutely being weird. I'm not exactly sure who you're hanging around, but most people don't freak out when you compliment their taste in accessories."

There was a few seconds of tense silence as Jon attempted to find the words to defend himself. All he could manage was a few meaningless sounds. 

Tim eventually broke the silence as he rolled his eyes, "Jon, seriously, if you're trying to, like, I don't know, hide the fact that you're some massive Lord of the Rings fan or something, it's fine, none of us are going to care. No one is judging you. God, you really need to calm down. I swear, this job is getting to you, you're even more high strung than before."

He wanted to be offended by that last part, but he was mostly just thankful that they seemed to have moved on from the ring topic. Tim was usually an incredibly curious person, and Jon had not been in the mood to discuss the nature of that ring. "I...yes, yes maybe you're right..."

"You should really think about taking a break. Might do you some good." For his part, Tim seemed to have also calmed down from the awkwardness, genuine concern in his voice.

"I will...I will consider it..." The stack of files beside him drew his eyes to them as he said that, beckoning him to them, "I just need to get these statements done, and then-"

"And then there will be another stack of statements to get through. And another. And another." Tim's hand came down on the files, as if you cut off whatever pull they had on him," I know how you work, Jon, as soon as you finish those, you're going to tell yourself that you might as well get started on the next set of them, and then you might as well finish it, and you'll just keep going like that until you collapse at your desk."

He was right, of course. Back in research, Jon had fallen asleep at his desk more than once while working on bigger projects, and this was the biggest project he had ever had to deal with at the institute. The more he thought about it, the more the exhaustion seemed to set in.

Before he could respond, Tim spoke up again, "Look, these statements aren't going anywhere, they will be here when you get back. It's the end of the day, the rest of us are all heading out, so for once, why don't you actually leave on time. It'll be good for you. And just know, if you try to make some excuse for why not, I'm not afraid to go get Sasha and Martin."

At that Jon's eyes went wide. Having Tim telling him to go home was one thing, he didn't want to have to face what would happen if the others got involved. He knew that both of them would have their mother hen tendencies slightly restrained - Sasha because she wouldn't want to cross any boundaries, and Martin because he wouldn't want to be too suspicious - but he was pretty sure that would only stop them short of carrying him out of the archives.

"...Alright, I'll...I think I'll do that."

With a smile and one last finger gun, Tim made his way back towards the door, "Glad to hear it. Get some rest Jon."

The statements were still calling Jon to stay and work, but tonight he was too tired to listen to them. At least as he left the office feeling of being watched dissipated slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am absolutely determined to write Tim as Time, I'm about ready to rip my E key off. Well, anyways, hope y'all liked Martin and Sasha having a heart-to-heart, and Tim and Jon being dumb. It was certainly fun to write.


	7. Falling For Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon struggles with disorganization, and Tim and Sasha gossip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't thanked you guys for the comments in a few chapters, so I would like to thank you all for those. You guys are so lovely and you leave the nicest comments, I really appreciate it, thank you so much!!

Health and safety was a department at the Magnus Institute that was much in the same state as HR. That is to say, it was pretty abysmal. Or at least it must have been, because Jon could not think of any other reason for the state of the ladders in the archives. Old and wooden and rickety, he was honestly beginning to wonder how long the had been there. Certainly longer than any of his team had been working here. Had they been here when Gertrude started? Were they original to the building? All seemed completely feasible as the one he was standing on wobbled again when he tried to push one of the banker boxes out of his way.

Why Gertrude had let statements be stored like this, Jon had yet to figure out. The majority of the files, disorganized as they were, were at least stored properly in the filing cabinets that filled most of document storage. A good number of them, however, had been placed in boxes, and thrown onto shelves with seemingly no rhyme or reason. It also happened that a good majority of these boxes had ended up on shelves well above Jon's head. Thus the horrible ladder. He was just glad the labels on the boxes were slightly more trustworthy than he had first suspected they would be.

The sound of the door to the room shutting nearly sent him off the ladder again. He had been paying so much attention to sifting through the boxes that he hadn't heard it open. Grabbing the shelf of support, he muttered quick string of curses while he steadied himself. He had hoped he had been quite, but the footsteps coming towards him indicated he hadn't succeeded.

"Jon?" Martin called as he rounded the corner of the shelving to where Jon was.

"Martin." He replied, tone pointed.

Martin rolled his eyes at the curt reply, "Calm down, Jon, it's just me. Everyone else is still at their desks."

"Oh...alright." His body relaxed with the knowledge that, for the moment, he could be a little less guarded. There were no functioning security cameras in the basement, and if they kept their voices low no one outside the room would be able to hear them. It was one of the rare occasions where the act could slip away while they were at work.

"I heard you swearing when I came in. Are you alright?" 

"Yes, I'm alright." Jon was glad that he was able to respond to Martin's concern with the appreciation he felt it deserved, rather than the contempt he normally used here, "Lost my balance a bit, that's all. These ladders are not the most stable."

"They certainly don't look it." He placed a hand on the side of it, taking in how run down it looked. "God, this thing can't be safe. I can't imagine it's much fun on that thing."

"I can assure you, it is not. I've considered buying a new ladder for this place myself. Being up here honestly wouldn't be such a problem if-"

"If you weren't so tiny."

A small, affronted scoff slipped out of Jon at the teasing, "I was going to say it wouldn't be a problem if the equipment wasn't on the verge of falling apart." He tuned back to the boxes, glancing over more labels. 

"Hey, come on, no need to get mad, you know I call you tiny with love. I, personally, quite like that you're small. Makes you easier to hold." Though Jon's lips remained pursed, they were now accompanied by a deep blush across his face, "So, what are you even doing up there?"

"Looking for some cases that I think are missing." Jon pushed another box away, trusting that the label was at least somewhat accurate to the content, "In the cabinets it looks as through there's a section of files that have been removed, so I was hoping that they had ended up in one of these boxes. No luck yet, but there are still plenty to look through."

Martin took a second, looking up to the mess of boxes and dust, "This place is such a disaster. I should really go through those boxes, try and get them sorted and put away properly."

"If you have to time, I think we would very much appreciate it." He said, not paying nearly enough attention as he shoved another box aside. Until then he hadn't realized just how many boxes he had pushed to the side, or how close they had gotten to the edge. As this box smacked against the others, they pushed even farther over the edge and began to tip, just as the old ladder gave another violent shake.

There was a cacophony of crashes as the ladder and boxes collided with the metal shelving and hit on the tile floor. 

A few seconds after the noise stopped echoing, Jon became aware that he wasn't on the floor with the rest of the things that had fallen. In fact, he wasn't on the floor at all. Instead, he felt something wrapped tightly around him, holding him off the ground. It seemed he was also holding onto it was well. As he opened his eyes, he was met with Martin's panicked face. 

" _Christ_ , Jon! You could've killed yourself!" His eyes darted over him, looking for any obvious sign of injury, "Are you hurt?"

"No...no, I think I'm ok..." Jon's brain was still a little foggy, and the words came out slower and a less sure then he wanted them to. The world hadn't quite come all the way back into focus, and their faces were just centimeters apart, so he just stared at Martin for a moment, the eyes starting back at him helping to quiet down the adrenalin. 

The sound of the door flying open suddenly filled the room, followed by the sound of two sets of foot falls rushing towards them. 

"What the hell was that!?" Tim yelled, at the same time as Sasha called out "We heard a crash! Is everyone ok!?"

When they came around to where the files and boxes were strewn across the floor, they both paused.

"Martin," Tim's voice was now much softer, "Why are you holding Jon?"

Jon all at once became very conscious of the fact that he was currently bundled up in Martin's arms, his feet dangling off the floor, and his assistants watching him. His face burned as blood rushed to his cheeks. 

Quick as he could, he wormed his way out of Martin's grip, landing on his feet with much less gracefully then hoped for. Brushing his hands over his clothes did little to remove the layer of dust that had settled on them, but the attempt to smooth out his appearance did help him to feel slightly more composed. His gaze was now locked on the paper covered floor, unwilling to look at any of his assistants. Their eyes weighed on him enough that he had to focus on keeping his posture straight.

"I...uh..." With a deep breath, he slipped back into character, "The boxes fell and knocked me off the ladder. Martin was...Martin happened to be standing close enough when he happened that he was able to...catch me. Now, if you are all quite done gawking at this mess, we have files that need to be reboxed and reshelved. It's going to take long enough as it is, you're standing around is not going to make it go any faster."

He knelt down to begin gathering up files, and the others joined him soon after. His heart was still pounding, though now it wasn't entirely from the fall. He hadn't lied to them, Martin had just happen to be standing beside him when the boxes started coming down on him, and he had caught him, and that was that. Maybe they hadn't seen the way they had looked at each other while they had been tangled up, or how close together they had been. Or how a person they had come to know as being weary of anything more than a handshake had seemed completely comfortable being cradled to his assistants chest.

For the rest of the work day, he refused to even look at Martin. 

* * *

**Sasha James (6:53pm):** You're still good for tomorrow night?

**Tim Stoker (6:54pm):** You know I am

**Sasha James (6:54pm):** Yay!

**Tim Stoker (6:55om):** We agreed 7ish?

**Sasha James (6:57pm):** Yes, 7ish will be perfect

**Sasha James (6:58pm):** I'm guessing you're bringing Mamma Mia?

**Tim Stoker (7:00):** Naturally

**Tim Stoker (7:00):** Anything else I should bring

**Sasha James (7:01pm):** I'm pretty set on snacks, but I think I'm low on booze if you want any.

**Tim Stoker (7:02pm):** Duly noted ;)

* * *

Movie night had become a thing shortly after Sasha had begun working in artifact storage. Tim figured it would be a good way to help his best friend cope with handling extremely cursed objects all day. Even though Sasha had since transferred out of artifact storage, the tradition stuck, and so every few Saturdays they would be on one of their couches, drinking and watching romcoms. And, most importantly, gossiping.

"I do not know how it's possible, but this head archivist job has somehow turned him into an even bigger hardass than before. Like, love him to bits, sure, but I honestly didn't think he could get worse than he was in research." Tim shifted on Sasha's couch, turning sideways to face her, his back against the armrest.

"God, I know." Sasha mirrored Tim's position, "And yes, it's gotta be incredibly stressful, I know. I wasn't even sure I would have been able to deal with it all when I put my bid in for the position. Like, I'm not sure if you ever met Gertrude, but she did not give me the impression that this was an easy job. But he's also not making it any easier on himself."

"Seriously though! Last week I made one passing comment about helping him record statements, and shut me down before I could even finish what I was saying. And I already know what you're going to say, he has his way of doing things and we have to just let him do it because he needs it done a certain way, I know, but you can't tell me he doesn't get weird about those statements."

"No, he definitely does. Wouldn't be so bad if he didn't insist of being so dismissive of all of them." She took another long sip of her drink, "Also, I'm pretty sure he gets some kind of pleasure out of ordering us around."

"Yeah he enjoys it way too much. Not sure I want to know what else that implies about him." He laughed as she reached over and slapped his leg, "Kidding, kidding. But honestly, as grouchy as me can be, I think we got off easy. Poor Martin has to deal with the majority of Jon's crap."

"He has seriously got to work through whatever issues he has going on with Martin."

"I really thought that going out for drinks was going to help it, but I swear he seems to hate Martin more than ever."

Sasha looked at him side-eyed before turning her attention back to her drink, "Hates him?"

"You've seen the way he acts around him, of course...why? What are you thinking, what's that look for?"

She finished off the last of her glass, "All I'm saying is that when I was little, and a boy started picking on me, people would always tell me not to worry about it 'because that means he likes you'." 

Tim's jaw dropped open slowly as he considered it, "No...no...you don't actually think...you think Jon might have a crush on Martin?"

"Ok hear me out on this one. We both saw him in document storage after he fell off the ladder, he was clearly being weird about that. And there's the whole tea thing. I don't know about you, but I don't think I would have a daily routine like that with someone I actually hated. Plus, and this is really something," At that Tim leaned forward a little more, "You would have probably been too drunk to remember this, but after you two had had your fifth or so shot that night we went out, he just started staring at him. Like, for the rest of the night, pretty much. I have never seen him look like that before, it was almost adorable."

"Oh my god..." Tim almost can't believe what she just told him. If it were anyone other than Sasha saying it, he'd be inclined not to. "Oh my god...Jon has a crush on Maritn...that's...fuck."

Sasha pointed a finger towards Tim, almost threatening if it weren't for the giggling, "Now, listen, listen we don't know for certain. This is just me speculating, so don't you go getting all weird about this. None of what I just said leaves this apartment, understand?"

"I promise I won't tell a soul, cross my heart. What happens on the couch stays on the couch." They laughed for a few seconds more, before Tim stopped to think, "They would be the weirdest couple. I could so see that going horribly wrong, but also, I can kinda also see it somehow working."

Sasha laughed again, "It would certainly be an interesting relationship. But, yeah, I can almost imagine them working together. Martin softening up Jon's sharp edges and all that. Too bad, honestly."

"Yeah, that whole HR thing kinda puts a damper on that," Tim let his head fall back as his eyes rolled.

"Oh...I honestly forgot about that. No, I was talking about...Tim, Martin is married."

Tim's head snapped back up, "Wait, what?"

"Yeah, he's married. Like, extremely happily married. That's what I meant by too bad."

"I'm sorry, you found this out when exactly?"

"Just last week. It was when you were out on your follow up."

"And you didn't tell me!?"

"I didn't think it was important!"

"Oh my...Sasha," He leaned back towards her, a very serious look on his face, "You need to tell me these things, keep me updated. You can't just spring all these things on me during movie night. It there anything else I've missed in the office gossip that you haven't told me?"

Sasha sat a moment, thinking it over, "Well, people have been talking about Elias and that one benefactor again, and..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got JMart flirting, we've got an archivist in peril, we've got Tim and Sasha being ~best friends~, it's a time y'all. Hope you all enjoyed this one!


	8. Tim Has a Hunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim tests out a hypothesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being on the shorter side, but oh well. Could have tried to pad it out a bit, but I'm happy with it as it is.  
> Also, question, is wearing a wedding ring on a necklace as a widow a thing???? I didn't know that was a thing??? I have had several comment about it now I find it kinda funny because I didn't know people did that and now I'm just like whooops. It's ok, this whole AU is pretty much contingent on normal rules of life not applying, it's fine, everything is fine hahaha. Just don't think about it too much and it works.

Several busy days had resulted in a small collection of mugs and spoons building up in Jon's office. He did try his best to keep things tidy, but his habit of putting his empty mugs on top of the small filing cabinet so they wouldn't take up space on his desk when he was too busy to take them back to the breakroom made them a bit too easy to forget about. It also didn't help that they somewhat blended in with the rest of the clutter in the room. So, after deciding he could afford to step away from his work for a moment, Jon gathered up the four mugs sitting around his office, two of them with spoons poking out of them, and made his way to the breakroom.

When he had walked by the assistants desks and seen only Sasha, he had a suspicions that he would not be alone in there, and the voices he now heard carrying down the hall confirmed this. As he stepped into the breakroom he saw Tim and Martin seated across from each other at the small table at the back of the room, chatting away. He moved over to the sink to begin washing out his mugs, his back to the other two, hoping they would be too preoccupied by their conversation to bother acknowledging him.

"So _that's_ where all the mugs have been disappearing to."

_Damn_

He looked over his shoulder, a scowl on his face in response to Tim's teasing, "Tim. Martin."

"Jon." Tim responded, his tone much lighter than Jon's had been, and Martin simply waved.

He turned back towards the sink, turning it on and placing the first of the mugs underneath the stream of water. Tim and Martin returned to their conversation, though Jon was not paying enough attention to say what they were actually talking about. The occasional part of it that he would catch made it sound like it was just your typical, mundane small talk. Jon had never been a fan of small talk like that, he found it pointless and tedious most of the time, not sure why so many people felt it was so necessary to talk about thing he knew they didn't actually care about.

There was something nice about listen to Tim and Martin droning on, though. It was always nice to be reminded of how well Martin had slotted in with Tim and Sasha. And even just having Martin's voice in the background was comforting, it made it feel like they were at home, washing up after dinner, telling one another about some strange thing that had happened that day, or something interesting they had read about. For one of the first times that day, Jon could feel the himself start to relax.

"So, Martin, how's your husband?"

Tim's voice cut through Jon's brief moment of calm. He felt his body tense at the question, and he had to stop himself from whipping his head around to face them again. The spoon he had just grabbed to rinse off, however, did fall to the floor with a clink that seemed to fill the room. Without even looking he knew that both of them had their eyes on him.

"Dammit." He knew that question should not make him as nervous as it did. It was a perfectly innocent question. Just another bit of idle chatter to pass the time, nothing more. Martin had obviously told him that he was married, which he was completely fine, they had never said that either of them had to lie about that. Just the specifics of it. He trusted Martin more than anyone, he knew there was no possibility Martin would have let anything slip. Tim had even said 'your husband', like he had no idea who this person was. 

But it was just the way he had said it. It almost sounded like he had specifically wanted Jon to hear it. Jon would swear that his voice was louder when he asked that then it had been before. Maybe he was just being paranoid over it, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Tim had specifically wanted Jon to hear that question, loud and clear.

Jon tried to keep his focus on the mugs, but he couldn't help himself from listening a little closer.

"He's, um, he's good."

"That's good. Shame we haven't met him yet."

"Yeah, shame, but you know how it is with work, busy schedules and all."

"What did you say he does, again?"

"He's an accountant." Never once did Martin hesitate on his answers. He was lying through his teeth for every one of them, but he said them as if he himself believed every word of it. Jon sometimes forgot what an impressive liar Martin could be when he set his mind to it. 

Finishing up with his last mug, he quickly places it to dry with the others, and quickly heads to the exit, not wanting to stick around for any more of the conversation.

* * *

**Tim Stoker (1:18pm):** So I decided to do a little test

**Sasha James (1:19pm):** And I'm guessing it's something you probably shouldn't have been done, and that's why you're texting me from a meter away

**Tim Stoker (1:19pm):** Correct

**Tim Stoker (1:20pm):** I was in the breakroom with Martin earlier, having with lunch, and then Jon walked in

**Tim Stoker (1:20pm):** And I brought up Martin's husband

**Sasha James (1:21pm):** Oh?

**Tim Stoker (1:24pm):** I asked him about it loud enough so Jon would hear

**Tim Stoker (1:24pm):** And he totally flinched

**Sasha James (1:25pm):** He did?

**Tim Stoker (1:26pm):** He did! I swear, he dropped a spoon and everything

**Sasha James (1:28pm):** Ok, first of all, this is seriously ridiculous, and I can't believe you actually did this

**Sasha James (1:29pm):** Second of all, oh my god, that's hilarious

**Tim Stoker (1:31pm):** What can I say, I'm a researcher, gotta do my research

**Tim Stoker (1:31pm):** And so far, research says that our poor boss has a crush

**Sasha James (1:33pm):** It certainly does seem that way, doesn't it

* * *

Sitting on the couch that evening there was an uneasy tension in the air with something that had still gone unsaid. They had stuck to their usual routine - get home, have dinner, settle down with something mindless on tv - and tried to ignore what they were both thinking about. 

Jon sat up a little straight, and decided to bite the bullet.

"Do you Tim suspects anything?"

Martin let out of huff of air that sounded like he had been holding his breath. He leaned forward, burying his face in his hand, "God, I have no idea! I've been careful, I promise, I have-"

"Martin, Martin, it's ok, I know you have been, I trust you. It was just...the breakroom today, that was weird-"

"That was weird! I had no idea where that had come from, we were just talking about the weather and then, boom, asking about my husband."

"And I don't want to sound like some conspiracy theorist, but I swear he spoke louder when he asked that then he had been before. Like he wanted me to hear him."

"Yeah, no, he was definitely louder. I didn't want to think much of it, but I think he might have been looking at you, even before you dropped that spoon."

Jon sighed and ran his hands over his face, "That was not my finest moment. It just caught me off guard and I...well. I didn't realize you had told them you were married."

"I know, I'm sorry, I-"

He reached over and grabbed Martin's hands, cutting off the thought, "No, don't be sorry, it's alright. We never agreed to you lying about that, it's ok."

Martin laced his fingers with Jon's, before letting out a quiet sigh, "I hadn't even planned on telling them I was married, honestly, but then Sasha noticed my ring, and she started asking about it, and then she must have told Tim, because he started asking me about it. I didn't think it would hurt to admit that to them, and I kept all the details as vague as I could."

"Didn't you say I was an accountant?"

"Listen, I didn't have anything prepared, and I panicked a little. It is perfectly good fake profession. It's a common enough job that it's believable, and boring enough that no one will bother asking about it. Hey, don't give me that look, you know I'm right." He bumped his shoulder against Jon's, a bit of humor returning between them, "I'm sorry it not all of my lies can be at the same level as 'Masters Degree in Parapsychology'."

"Alright, that's fair," The was a pause before Jon's face turned serious again, "So, he knows you're married, but he doesn't know that I am, so that's good at least."

"Yes, that's...that's good. And we've been careful. They shouldn't suspect anything. We're probably fine. Just a weird conversation, that's all it probably was."

"Probably just that, yes."

Quiet feel over the room again, along with the nervous static between them. This time is was Martin who broke the silence.

"You don't think Tim could, you know, figure it out, could he?"

Jon slouched back, leaning against Martin, as he closed his eyes and thought about what he was going to say. It wasn't that he didn't have an answer to the question, he just didn't like the one he had.

"If anyone was going to figure this out, I think Tim would be the one to do it."

Martin didn't say anything in response, but he felt the groan that Martin made as much as he heard it.

"The problem with working with researchers, it seems." Jon continued, "Sasha is a brilliant researcher, absolutely, but her specialty is more on computers and digging up information that way. Tim, on the other hand, he knows how to get information out of people. The man has a gift for knowing the right thing to say to convince you to tell him what he wants to know. It's incredibly useful when working on cases, but, not so much when you want to hide things form him."

"Great, that's just great."

'Well, I think if anyone is going to be able to do this, it's you. Tim might be good at getting information out of people, but I have never known anyone who can hide information for someone like you can." Jon smiled slightly as he felt Martin kiss the top of his head.

"Well, thank you for that very strange compliment."

They both settled back on the couch, Jon leaning on Martin's chest, and Martin with his arms around Jon's waist. Both of them knew they would have to be more careful around Tim. He was crafty like that, able to charm you into a conversation where you didn't think about half the things you were telling him. But they both also knew they had their own advantages in the situation. Jon hadn't been lying about Martin, he had a talent for concealing things, even form perceptive people. And Jon had established a relationship with Tim where questions like that simply don't get asked much anymore. 

"One more questions," Martin asked quietly, his cheek pressed against Jon's temple, "if he did ever find out, can we trust him?"

Jon thought about it for a moment, "Yes...yes I think we can. But still...I don't..."

Martin pressed another kiss into Jon's hair, "I get it. I agree with you, it's not worth the risk, even if we can."

"I just don't want to chance anything. The less people who know, the better. Less likely for something to slip out. And I don't think it's fair to ask them to keep secrets for us, either."

"That's true. So then," He tightened his hold a little, and Jon let himself be pulled in even closer, "I guess it's all up to us."

Jon let his eyes close as he leaned into Martin, "It seems it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I actually include a reference to a mostly dead tiktok meme? Why yes, yes I did.


	9. Not A Great Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon has had a very difficult week, and Friday is not turning out much better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a little bit of office drama. Hope your guys enjoy.  
> Also, as I have mentioned, your comments are the highlight of my day currently, and I love you guys for them, thank you so much.

"So you took some files from his office?" Peter was not pleased with how frequently Elias had begun calling him with updates on his new Archivist. His experience with Elias in the past, though, told him it was easier to just indulge the man rather than try to protest it.

"Yes, I did, but nothing important of course. Nothing that will impede his development without it."

"And you did this why exactly?"

There was a laugh on the other end of the call, "Why else, Peter? I would like to see what happens."

The answer was obvious enough that Peter found himself rolling his eyes at himself for asking as much as he was at Elias, "And this doesn't happen to have anything to do with you're other little experiment you've got going in your archives, does it?"

"Well, Peter, we'll have to see, now won't we."

* * *

This had certainly been quite a week. It wasn't like any of the weeks they'd had in the archives had been easy, so filled with recording and research and reorganizing, but this week had just been _a week_. Everything that could possibly happen seemed to be happening. The statements seemed even more piled up in the office than they usually were, all the assistants seemed to be running into issues with follow-ups and reports were coming in late, the archives themselves felt even more chaotic than normal. Everyone had been putting in extra work to try and keep things under control.

Elias certainly hadn't been helping. Calling Jon up to his office, coming down to Jon's office, emails aplenty. This week in particular he seemed to have taken special interest in the happenings of the archives. To Jon it all felt like a waste of time, taking up much too much of the work day that he could have been using to record statements. He'd ended up staying late every night this week, in part because of this. Wednesday he'd only remembered to go back home after he got a call from Martin informing that it was 10 pm, and if he didn't come home himself, he was going to come back to the office carry him out of there. It hadn't been much help, in the end, since with everything that was going on, Jon had also barely slept, kept awake most of the night by his racing thoughts of everything he still had to do.

So to say Jon was not in a good mood this particular Friday afternoon would have been an understatement. Less than four hours of sleep yet he had still managed to oversleep. They were out of tea in the breakroom when he arrived. Another visit from Elias. Two different lightbulbs had blown before lunch, and after lunch his laptop had found a whole new set of ways to act up.

And now a stack of files were missing.

He knew they had been there yesterday, he was certain of it. He was also certain that he hadn't moved them. But he had now turned his office inside out and they were nowhere to be found.

Sure, he could have left if, recorded a different stack of statements, since there was definitely no shortage of those, but he wanted those files. He had a system for recording them, first of all, and he planned to stick to it. It was disorganized to the point of madness, so was it so wrong to try and bring a little bit of order. Second of all, he would not just let institute documents disappear without a trace. He was the Head Archivist, these statements were his responsibility, and he was not about to let something like this happen.

The assistants were the only thing he hadn't checked for those documents, so he made his way out of his office into their shared space. As he stepped through the door he was greeted with the sound of them idly chatting to each other while they typed away at their desks. This was typical of them by now, but today it still felt like an insult to Jon, that they could seem relaxed enough to bother with small talk while they worked, like their was no urgency to what they were doing.

"There's a set of files missing form my office, have any of you seen it."

The conversation stopped, and they all turned to him with confused expressions. Tim was the first to speak up.

"I think you might need to be a bit more specific there, boss, you've got a lot of stuff in that office." His voice, though still uncertain, was light was joking, as Tim's often was. Today this only worked to irritate Jon even further.

"It was about fifteen statements, all from early 2002, they were on my desk yesterday."

After a few seconds the three of them all shook their heads no.

"So none of you have seen them? None of you took them? Moved them anywhere?"

"We wouldn't just take files from your office, Jon." Sasha said, an edge of defensiveness to her, "We would never move thinks from your office without permission."

"You're also here earlier and later than any of us, so it's not like we could have snuck in there or anything." Tim added.

"Well, they were in my office last night, and today they aren't there. And before any of you even think to say it, yes, I have searched my office for them, thoroughly. So, if none of you have any ideas where they might be, I'd appreciate if at least one of you begins looking for them."

Tim quirked an eyebrow at him, "Looking for them?"

"Yes, we need those files, and I have already wasted too much time looking for them. Look in here and if nothing turns up check document storage. I should have the case numbers if you need them."

Tim started to protest, and Sasha was close behind him. Complaints of "we've got reports to finish" and "we're busy too" and "we don't have time" seemed to layer one on top of another. It was too much today."

"You are my assistants, and so I am telling you how you are going to assist me! Now would you please do you damn jobs and find those statements!" He hadn't intended to raise his voice like he had, and from their faces, neither Tim or Sasha had expected it. Eyes wide and mouths agape, they looked completely taken back by it. "If any of you need me, I will be in my office."

As he turned to leave, his eyes moved away from where they had been focused on Tim and Sasha, and finally caught a look at Martin. The anger than had gripped him a second before seemed to fizzle away, but what replaced it felt no less awful. 

* * *

After about an hour Jon did step back out to apologize to the others. He knew what he did was wildly unprofessional, so he at least owed them that. Even told them that they could leave a little early if they liked, just to make it up to them a little. He did, however, also ask that Martin come to see him before he left. 

The knock on his office door came just after 6pm. Jon hadn't even needed to put anything down when he called for them to come in, since he had been waiting for the knock since about 5:45.

Martin stepped in, shutting the door behind him quietly, "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, yes, um, please take a seat, Martin." His posture was ridged, back straight and hands folded in from of him on the desk, "Are they...have the others left already."

Martin was matching the stiffness of Jon's behavior, his whole body uncomfortably tight as he sat, "Yes, they've left. It's just us."

At that Jon's whole demeanor changed; the tension and forced professionalism falling away, his shoulders slumping. The emotion he had been carefully covering up now clear on his face.

"Are you alright, Martin?"

"What? Of course. I'm fine." Despite the fact that there was no longer a need for it, Martin still kept his same position. It was obvious he was trying to avoid talking about it.

"Are you sure, because I...I saw you earlier when...well when I..." With a sign, Jon stood up and walked around to lean against the desk next to Martin, 'I know how much you dislike it...I know it upsets you when people yell...when I yell, and you were clearly upset earlier and I...Martin I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"It's alright, Jon, it's fine." Martin was a good liar most of the time, but Jon had long since figured out the tells when he was avoiding saying how he felt. "You really don't need to apologize, it's ok."

"But it's not, Martin. It's not ok. It's not ok that I lost my temper like that, and it's not ok that I yelled." Jon took Martin's hands in his own, "I know how it upsets you. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

He looks back at Jon, and for a moment his looks as though he's going to try and deny it all, but then his face relaxes and he gives Jon's hands a squeeze, "I...thank you, Jon...thank you."

The way that Martin looked at him, his expression finally genuine and open, made Jon feel like a weight had finally been lifted off his chest, "I really am sorry, Martin. Are you ok?"

"I'm...I wasn't great, earlier, you're right, I don't do great with yelling. But...I'm ok now. I promise." 

They spent a few seconds sitting there, just looking at each other, before Jon gave a small tug on Martin's hands, prompting his to stand. When he did Jon closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Martin's chest. He let out a content sigh as he felt the weight of Martin's arm around his shoulders.

"I love you, Martin." Jon mumbled against his husbands chest.

"I love you too." The arms around him tightened ever so slightly, pulling him in just that little bit closer.

There was another moment of quite while they stood there tangled together. After a minute, and smile crept across Jon's face.

"You said it was just us here, correct?"

"I did. Other two left a while ago, probably both home by now."

"Good."

Jon leaned back from the embrace, just slightly, and looked up at Martin. His hand came up cupped Martin's cheek, a gesture that Martin instinctively leaned into. Then he tilted his head up, closing the small gap between them, and pressing their lips together.

Martin's lips were soft an familiar against his, and they moved eagerly to return the kiss. It was a sweet and gentle kiss, melting away whatever nerves might have been there earlier. Jon brought his arms and wrapped them around the back of Martin's neck. In return one of Martin's arms snaked it's way up between his shoulder blades, while the other went around his waist to pull him in closer. Martin leaned his head down slightly, deepening the kiss, and drawing a small, throaty noise out of Jon, as his hands moved up to lace themselves into Martin's hair. Even with the corner of his desk beginning to dig into the thighs, Jon felt as though he could have stayed like that for hours, with the only space left between him and his husband being what they needed to breath, everything so warm and wonderful and-

"Jon? Sorry, think I forgot my charger, you haven't seen...it..."

The door sung open, and there, frozen in the door way, staring at them, was Sasha.

* * *

It was nearly impossible to pick all the emotions on Sasha's face, twisting in a mask of shock and confusion and something that almost looked like anger. All any of them could was continue to stand there utterly still for what felt like a lifetime. It wasn't helping that Martin and Jon were still pressed together, arms wrapped around each other. Years of cheesy horror movies meant that when the sound of that door had made them jump their instinct was to hold on even tighter to the other.

"I gonna...yeah, I'm just gonna go..." She began slowly backing out of the room.

Martin pulled himself out of the embrace and started towards her, "Wait, wait, Sasha no, this...this isn't what it looks like!"

She paused a few feet out from the door, back to him. When she turned her head to speak to him her voice came out sharp, "Well, Martin, I saw what I saw pretty clearly. I'm really not sure what else it could look like. But I guess it's really not my business so..."

"I, um, well...I..." His voice shook as he tried to regain some semblance of control on the situation, "What, um, what do you think it looks like?"

Turning to face him her eyes quickly moved from him to Jon then back to him, "I think it _looks_ like you're having an affair."

"Wait, what?" Jon finally spoke up in a small voice from where he was still frozen next to his desk.

Martin's voice came out much more distressed, "NO! No no no no no, Sasha, that's not what this is at all, I-"

"Really, Martin, really, it's none of my business how you choose to...spend you time, so I'll just...leave you to it then."

The emotions on her face had unraveled themselves enough for the disgust and disappointment to be seen clearly on it. Martin had thought he and Sasha had developed a good friendship by now, so to see her look at him like sent a pain through his chest.

"Sasha, please, just let me-"

"You know what, Martin, honestly, the affair isn't even the part that I'm really bothered about. Like, am I maybe a _little bit_ confused over the fact that you've spend the last few weeks swooning over you supposedly _wonderful_ husband, only to find out that you're sleeping around behind his back, yes, I think so. But with _Jon_? That is what I am disappointed about. I mean, he obviously has feelings for you-"

"Wait, what?" Jon muttered, slightly more distressed this time.

"-and you're just...taking advantage of him. I can't believe you would use him like that. I thought you were better than this, Martin."

"No, Sasha, you've got this all wrong." Martin's mind was swimming with enough adrenaline he was impressed he could still string together a coherent defense, "There is no affair, there is no taking advantage of people, and there is _definitely_ no sleeping around, I swear."

"Well then what I just walk in on!?"

"I can explain-"

"Then please do."

The realization of what he was going to have to do weighted heavily on Martin. Months of being careful and dancing around each other all brought down by one careless moment. There was nothing left do but admit to it.

"Sasha" slowly he walked back to stand beside Jon (who was still in the same spot, completely overwhelmed with everything that was happening), and gestured towards him, "I'd like you to meet my wonderful husband."

The archives were deafeningly silence, punctuated by the quiet tick tick tick of the wall clock in the assistants space. Each second that passed felt like an eternity, suspense of how she would react hanging over him. He trusted Sasha, he liked her, she was his friend, but that didn't take away from the fact that she now had to power to bring their life crashing down around them. 

Finally she came out of her initial shock enough to try and piece together the situation, her hands coming to her temples and her eyes squeezing shut as she concentrated "So...wait...Jon's your...you...you're...you two...ok, I'm sorry, what the fuck?"

"My husband that I've been telling you about, it's Jon. We're married, Sasha, to each other, have been the whole time."

"I...Jon? Is he serious?"

Jon nodded, "H-he...it's...yes...yes it's true."

Her eyes went wide again, "I didn't even know you were married!"

"I never told you." He said, matter-of-factly.

"Ok this...this is insane. So this whole time you two have just been pretended like you hardly even knew each other? Are you kidding me?"

Martin spoke up again, "It's...it's a bit of a long story."

Sasha looked at them again, eyes flicking between them. Her face had at least softened, the anger and disappointment giving way to just confusion and a bit of curiosity. She was no longer looking at them like she had walked in on something distasteful, but instead she looked at them the same way Martin saw her look at a particularly interesting research problem. Then she reached out and pulled up a chair, and took a seat.

"You know what, I think I've got the time. Just...start from the beginning..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, boys, look what you've done now.


	10. Start From The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLASHBACK FLUFF TIME FLASHBACK FLUFF TIME FLASHBACK FLUFF TIME  
> And she's an EXTRA long one, too (seriously, this is like double the length of the other chapters whoops)
> 
> So, for the record, this is not actually what they're telling Sasha, I just really wanted to write this one. For what they're actually telling Sasha they basically just went over "we started dating before the institute, it wasn't a problem, got married, and now we have a problem." and filled her in on their plotting

**October, 2010**

The streets were incredibly quiet for London, but that is somewhat to be expected at 5:30 am. In reality, Jon didn't need to be up and out of his apartment quite so early, he didn't start work until 8, and it didn't take him anywhere near two and a half hours to get there. But habits can be funny like that, forming without you meaning for them to, driving you to do things that might not have a real reason for them. And so, he was up before the sun and walking down the streets of London, making his way down to that same coffee shop he went to almost every morning.

When he arrived it was only a few minutes after it had opened, and he knew he would be the first customer there. The place was always abandoned when he arrived, just as it had been back months ago when he started coming in around this time. It had been convenient then, back when he did need to be up this early, as it wasn't too far between his flat and his job. He had been in every day for a month and a half, and then, he just kept showing up. It was nice being up that early, Jon had justified to himself, it meant he had to drag himself out of bed in the morning and prevented him form staying up to too ungodly of an hour the night before. Good way to start his day. Plus it was quiet then, no overwhelming clutter of other commuters hustling about, bumping into him, making too much noise.

He did have some company, though. It was also good incentive.

"Morning, Jon," the barista waved to him form the other side of the counter as soon as he stepped through the door, "the usual, I'm guessing?"

"Yes, thank you Martin." After enough months of showing up first thing after opening before most people had even considered going to a café, they start to consider you a regular. Even more so when it seems the same person has been working the morning shift for as long as you've been showing up.

Martin had been working the opening shift those first few times Jon had shown up, and he had worked them almost every week since then as well. A few times Jon had wondered if this was just because Martin was the only one willing to work that shift regularly, or it Martin had chosen to work these shifts, but he didn't let it bother him. He wouldn't say it out loud, but seeing Martin in the morning had become the part of his routine that he might have most looked forward to. They were usually the only two in the shop for a good twenty or more minutes, apart from the occasional person rushing to or from somewhere, so they had gotten to know each other pretty well.

It was nice. Really nice. Jon had never been confident with making friends, it had just never been something that had been natural to him. Back when he was with Georgie he had had a few good friends, but after the breakup they had drifted apart, since they were more Georgie's friends than they were his to begin with anyway. There was a few people he talked to at work, but none of them he would actually be willing to consider friends. People seemed to just drift in and out of his life, never sticking around for long. With Martin it had been different. At first Jon had told himself that Martin was at work, and it was part of his job to be nice to people, so it wasn't like he actually cared when he tried striking up conversations in the empty café. But the kindness continued, even after a few weeks of Jon brushing it off, and eventually he decided to give it a shot. It was easy to talk to Martin, he seemed to genuinely willing to listen, even when Jon would start babbling on about whatever obscure thing had struck his interest that day. After a few months it was clear to Jon that Martin wasn't being nice to him because he had to, it was because he wanted to. And it was nice. Really nice.

"And here you go," Martin placed the steaming mug down on the counter, "one Earl Grey."

"Thank you." He smiled as he picked up the tea, taking it over the his usual table. It was the one closest to the counter, so it was easier to talk that way.

"So, any exciting plans for the weekend?"

"Not particularly. I got a new book recently, it's an analysis of early Greek tragedies. I'll have to tell you about it next week."

There was something about the way Martin reacted to those words that unsettled Jon, though he couldn't quite place what it was, "Yeah, definitely...next week..."

"Is, um, is everything ok? If you don't want to hear about it I don't have to tell you, it's alright."

"No, no, it's not that, it's just...well, I've kinda been meaning to tell you something. Been putting it off long enough, I guess."

Jon sat up a little straighter in his seat, trying to ignore how is heart seemed to have doubled its pace, "What did you want to tell me?"

"Well...I actually got a new job. It's in a library, pretty excited for it, honestly. But it also means that next week is my last week here."

"Oh." While his heart had been racing seconds ago, it now seemed to have stopped all together. He knew this couldn't have lasted forever, something was bound to change, but he had hoped that it wouldn't have to change quite so soon. "So, I guess I won't see you in here after then."

"No, I, uh, I guess not." Martin's face was turning a progressively deeper shade of pink as he stood there, and Jon got the distinct feeling that the new job wasn't the only thing on his mind, "That...uh, well...that's actually the other thing I was wanting to talk to you about. Or rather ask you about."

"Ask me about?"

"Yes, um, you know, since we seem to, um, enjoy seeing each other, and since we won't really see each other _here_ anymore, I was wondering if, um, maybe you'd be interested in seeing each other...other places?"

"...other places?" Jon spoke very tentatively, cautious that he might be misinterpreting something. He'd not always been the best at picking up on people's implications, so he was trying to not let his mind run away with wishful thinking.

"Oh, god," Martin leaned over with his elbows on the counter and his face in his hands, "A date, Jon. Would you like to go on a date with me?"

There wasn't much room for misinterpretation there. Still, Jon just sat there for a second trying to comprehend it. For a long time now he knew there was something with Martin that he had been avoiding addressing, and now it was all crashing down on him at once. Every feeling he tried to ignore, the way his pulse fluttered when their hands brushed while passing a mug between them, the longing glances they exchanged.

It wasn't until Martin began sputtering again that he realized that he had been sitting there silent and slack jawed during his little revelation. 

"If you don't want to, that's totally fine of course, it's, it's...you don't have to obviously, I was just thinking...god if I read this whole thing wrong I am so sorry, but-"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes. I would like to go on a date with you. I would...I would very much like that."

"Oh...oh, oh, um, good, great, yes, here I'll just..." He went and grabbed a small piece of receipt paper and a pen, and quickly scribbled something down on it, "here, um, here's my phone number. I finish here at 1, and I haven't got another job or anything after then, so I guess you could call anytime after then."

He reached out and took the number, looking at it with more fondness than he would have thought he could manage for a scrap of paper. 

"Thank you, Martin."

* * *

**February, 2011**

This was good.

This was very good.

_Great_ , in fact.

Of all the things Martin had expected from tonight, having possibly the most beautiful man he had ever known on his couch kissing him senseless had not been one of them. Unexpected, but very much enjoyable. It had started like any other movie night, just the two of them in his apartment, watching something silly that Jon was certainly going to pick apart with cinematic analysis and point out the continuity errors, and then here they were; Martin leaning back on the arm of the couch, with Jon straddling him, his hands tangled into his hair, kissing each other like they both needed it to survive. He ran his hand down Jon's back, over the soft cotton of his shirt, marveling in the way he seemed to shudder beneath the touch. Every brush of their lips sent electricity through him, pulling him back in for more. He wasn't even sure if the movie was still playing, anymore, the only sound he was aware of was the low, contented hums coming from Jon.

Besides how Jon was sitting in his lap, though, it wasn't particularly… _heavy_. Every kiss and touch and movement was gentle, tender, filled with so much emotion but with none of the hunger that he had grown used to with past boyfriends. It was as if they would have both been completely satisfied to remain in that moment for the rest of their lives. Martin certainly was.

But he also knew how this worked. Maybe his dating history wasn't the biggest in the world, but this wasn't his first time doing this. He knew what Jon wanted, he had known from the second he had pulled himself on top of him. He was probably just waiting for Martin to make the move at this point. 

He pulled back from the kiss, but brought his hand down to rest on Jon's hip, "Hey."

"Hey." The response came back quite and a little rough around the edges.

"So, did you want to...you know..." He tightened his grip a little, running his thumb over where the bone jutted out. 

Jon's face changed as he caught onto what Martin was suggesting, but it wasn't quite the change Martin had anticipated. His eyes went wide and his jaw was tight, and he was pulling back a little more. Martin had expected him to look happy, but right now he seemed almost scared.

"Oh...oh you...oh, god, I...um..." He had started to climb off of Martin, and that nervous tension had spread all down his body. It made Martin feel sick to watch him like this, especially with the thought that he might have caused it.

"Jon, what's wrong? Are you ok?"

"No, no I'm fine, it's nothing, it's just...damn, I should have said something earlier, I should...I should leave."

"What?" Martin watched as Jon started to straighten his clothes out and get up to leave, before he finally caught his wrist to stop him, "Woah, Jon, what are you doing, what the hell is going on?"

Though he wasn't trying to run out the door anymore, Jon was still standing in the same spot, apprehensive to move. 

"Please tell me what's wrong?"

Sitting back down slowly, Jon still looked anxious, but at least not like he was going to try and bolt on him.

"I'm sorry, I, um, I guess I kind of panicked."

"Ok, but why? What's going on?" Martin thought about reaching out to take his hand, but decided against it, "We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"That's the thing, Martin, I don't want to." His voice treaded a line between embarrassment and shame, and Martin wanted nothing more than to soothe away those nervous lines that had appeared on his face, "I don't and...I don't know if I ever will. It's not you, it has nothing to do with you, I promise. But I'm sorry, I just _don't_."

"You _don't_?"

Jon just shook his head. Martin was pretty sure that if Jon could have disappeared in that moment he would have. 

And Martin couldn't help but laugh.

It was just a small laugh, but still it drew Jon's attention to it, with that same panicking look in his eyes.

"What is it?"

"You... _don't_. You don't." His laughing picked up a little, though he tried to stop it when he saw the way Jon was looking at him, "No, Jon, Jon, I'm not laughing at you, I swear, it's not that. It's just...you don't...and, and you know what? I cannot tell you how happy that makes me."

In and instant Jon's expression changed, " _What_?"

"Like, listen, I won't lie, sex is...fine. It's alright. But, like, I've never really _wanted_ it, you know. Not that anything I did with any of my ex's wasn't consensual or anything like that, _Christ_ , that's not what I mean at all. I just didn't want it in the same way they wanted it. It's like, if it's offered to me, I might...participate, but I have no drive to actually pursue it. The only reason I even tried to suggest it just then was because I thought that was what you wanted. Honestly, it's always been one of my least favorite parts of dating, because it's _not_ important to me, but it seems to be to everyone else, and I always feel like when they find out I don't _want_ sex like they do, and that I don't...feel those kinds of feelings really, it's like I'm letting them down. But...but, you _don't_."

Jon turned to him, the tightness in his body letting go, his face finally relaxing, "So, you're ok with this? You're not upset?"

"Jon, I am more than ok with this. Truthfully, I'm relived." 

"Oh..." Even in the dim light of the room, Martin could seen the tears that had started to well in Jon's eyes. He reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, sweeping away the first one the trickled down his face with his thumb, as Jon leaned is face a little more into his palm.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"I was scared." The tears are falling faster now, but his voice remained steady, "I was scared that you would hate me. It's always felt like people have hated that part of me. I've hated that part of me. Georgie tried so hard, she tried to be alright with it, but even with her I couldn't shake that feeling that she resented it."

"Oh, Jon."

His face was now glistening from the tears, and his breathing was a bit more ragged, "But...you understand. And you know what it feels like. And if you feel similar to how I feel, then I'm not the only one. And maybe there isn't something wrong with me. There's nothing broken or missing or...or..." A sob cut him off before he could say anything else. 

Martin moved closer to him on the couch, arms outstretched towards him, "Come here."

Jon closed the gap, letting himself be held as the quiet sobs shook him. There were so many things Martin wanted to say to him, but he figured they could wait for later. There would be time to say them later.

* * *

**June, 2012**

Jon wasn't a fan of Sundays. Or, more accurately, he wasn't a fan of Sundays anymore. They had always been tedious days, sure, much too idle for his liking. But ever since moving to the flat with Martin a few month ago, he found a new reason to dislike Sundays. Because ever other Sunday, Martin would go to visit his mother.

At first is had been just a small bother, since it was one of the few days they could spend together without work getting in the way, and Martin's trips up took up most of it. But then he started to notice how Martin acted when he came back. He was obviously trying to hide it, but Jon had gotten better at picking up on when he was try to avoid something. Something was always clearly off when he came home on Sundays, and today was no exception.

He heard the keys in the door, followed by that soft creak of its hinges, and went to go meet him in the hallway. Martin was just taking his shoes off when Jon got to the little hallway by their door, and he had that same blank expression that he normally did after these trips.

"You're home a little earlier than I expected." Jon tried his best to keep his voice light, "I was just about to start dinner."

The vacant look in Martin's eyes seemed to subside slightly as the words registered with him, "Hmm, oh, um, yeah, good. Not really hungry right now, might have some later."

As he got a better look at Martin's face he noticed how his eyes were still slightly red, and that faint sheen of dried tears against his skin. 

Martin spoke again, his voice still sounding hollow, "I think I'm actually going to go lie down for a bit."

"Tired?" Jon already knew that would be the response if he asked him how he was feeling, so he just skipped right to it.

"Yeah. Long trip."

They had never talked much about Martin's mother, but Jon knew enough. He knew enough to know that the trip wasn't the reason Martin was tried, and that 'tired' probably wasn't even the right word. 

He hated seeing Martin like this. He hated how tired and empty he looked. And he hated how small it made him seem. In reality, Martin was considerably bigger than Jon, at least a head taller than him, and probably twice as broad. He shouldn't have been able to seem small. But right now he looked like he was trying to shrink down to nothing.

Jon also hated how helpless he felt. As much as he wanted to help, to fix it and make it all better, he just had no idea how to. And he wanted to fix it so badly. He wanted to just make whatever awful things were swimming through Martin's head disappear. He wanted to be able to make Martin smile and laugh and be happy. But he couldn't. He was stuck just waiting it out, crossing his fingers and hoping that he'd be ok by the morning.

Martin stepped around him, heading towards their bedroom. He made it a few feet before Jon decided to try something.

"Martin." He called, and the other man stopped, turning back to face him, "I, um, I was actually feeling rather tired as well. Would you mind if I joined you?"

He didn't say anything in response, just stood there moment, but his face seemed to lighten up and he stretched a hand out towards Jon. He took it, and they made their way to their room. 

They crawled into their sides of the bed, and Jon was distinctly aware of the space that was between them. There was awkward silence as they laid there, neither of them seeming to really know what to do. After a few minutes, Jon decided to be brave, and reached his hand across the gap, gently brushing it against Martin's. He flinched slightly at the touch, but then reached back, lacing their fingers together. Jon turned onto his side to face Martin, and Martin mirrored the action. 

There were so many things Jon desperately wanted to say to him. That his mother had to right to make him feel like that, that he didn't have to go and see her, that he didn't have to keep doing this. But he knew it wouldn't help. Probably just make things worse, honestly. Maybe it was a conversation for another day, but not now. Martin didn't need him trying to fix his life for him right now. Even if Jon wanted to protect him from all these things he was feeling, it just wasn't the time. 

"Hi." He kept his voice just loud enough that Martin would be able to hear him.

"Hey." 

"You're sure you're alright with this? With me laying with you?"

He felt a bit of breath against his face as Martin let out a small huff, "Yes. I really am."

They weren't sure who moved first, but the gap between them quickly closed. After a soft kiss on the cheek, Jon shifted up and pulled Martin's head against his chest, letting his chin rest against Martin's hair. Martin's arms tightened around his waist, and their legs began to tangle together. It felt a lot better laying like this. It felt safer. 

"You know I'm always here for you." And he felt as a shuttering breath shook Martin's body at that.

His voice was a little more hoarse than it had been before when he replied, "I know. Thank you."

Jon stayed quite after that. He just laid there, running his hands through Martin's hair, even as he felt the wet spot of tears soaking into his shirt. Martin didn't need him trying to fix this right now. Right now, he just need him to be there. 

* * *

**December, 2013**

_Ok, he is definitely acting weird_

Something had been off with Jon for a little while, now, but today it was more obvious than it had been. Where he'd been a little tense before, he was downright jumpy now, looking over his shoulder at Martin but turning his head back as soon as he noticed he was looking. He was acting weird. And Martin was still at a complete lose for _why_.

It should have just been another Saturday. There wasn't anything special about it that Martin could think of. There weren't any significant dates coming up besides the holidays, and besides the fact that was still weeks away, it did nothing to explain the behavior. Martin had never seen him act quite like this before, including around holidays. If Jon ever tried to hide anything in the apartment (which he was pretty terrible at), he would sometimes get twitchy when Martin would get close to the hiding spot. But it didn't matter where Martin went, or even if they were at home, the twitchiness wasn't about a certain spot, it was about him. 

All day Jon had been sneaking looks at him, checking on him, hovering around him but never getting closer than arms reach. It was starting to creep Martin out a little bit. And he still had no clues as to why he was he was acting like this.

_So, no birthdays anytime soon, he never gets like this during the holidays_

_He's not upset with me, he's not this good at hiding that_

_Same goes for him breaking up with me, he's be acting a whole different kind of_ _weird_

_He's just being caring, and overly sweet, while also watching you over his shoulder and refusing to go near you_

_Great_

Finally he decided there were only two things he could do, and dying of frustration at trying to figure this out by himself did not seem particularly appealing.

He stepped into their tiny kitchen where Jon had been working diligently for the last hour, "Alright, what's going on?"

"...I'm making dinner?"

"That's not what I mean. You've been acting weird for days, and today you're acting extra weird. So, what's going on?"

Jon stared back at him, fidgeting with the spatula in his hands, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're a terrible liar, and we both know it. Try again."

He deflated a little and sighed, "Ok, alright, maybe I have been acting a bit strange, I will admit. I promise I'll tell you everything and explain it all, but after dinner. Please."

Martin's brows knotted together, "After dinner? Why after dinner? Why can't you just tell me?"

"Well, you see, I've been working very hard on this meal, and I can't get distracted for too long-"

"Jon. The truth."

"Ok, I'm sorry. I will tell you everything, but I need you to trust me for now. I have a plan, and I just need to stick to my plan, and then I promise, I will tell exactly why I've been acting strange."

Martin knew there was no point in trying to push it. If Jon had a plan it was better to let him see it through. And he did trust him, he would get his answer, so he could wait an little while more.

"Alright, after dinner. But I want my answers."

Dinner went pretty normally for them, though the meal was definitely on the fancier side of what Martin was used to. Jon actually hadn't been lying when he said he'd worked hard on it, it had turned out delicious. Martin sometimes forgot how well Jon could cook, but that was mostly because Jon seemed to forget how well Jon could cook most of the time.

_I guess maybe that makes it more romantic when he does it_

As they both finished and plates were put in the sink, they moved over to the couch, and Martin decided he had waited long enough.

"Right, so, it's after dinner, now, can I please get my answers?"

Jon was still avoiding looking directly at him, "Tell me, have you been, um, have you been paying attention to the news lately?"

"The news?" Martin's confusion was growing even stronger, "I mean, not any more than normal, no."

Jon nodded stiffly, "Right, right of course...stupid way to start that anyway, um, I...." He sat up a little straighter, and finally turned to look Martin in the eye, "Martin, there is something I would like to talk to you about."

He'd slipped into that voice he used around other people, stuffy and studious, and often a desperate attempt to cover up his discomfort. A hint of dread crept into Martin's mind.

"Ok? That didn't sound ominous at all."

Jon buried his face in his hands and slumped forward, "No, that was really not my best choice of words, I'm sorry. God, this was so much easier in my head."

"Easier in your head?"

"Yes, I had it all planned out. Nice day, romantic dinner, quiet evening in, and I would just be able to say it. But I did all the other things, or at least I tried to, and here we are, and I'm rambling on and making a fool of myself, and I just wanted this to be perfect, and now this whole thing turning into a disaster-"

"Hey, Jon, calm down, it's just me." He placed a hand on his back, "You know you can tell me anything. So if there's something you need to say, you can just say-"

"Marry me."

If you were to have told Martin that time had stopped in that moment, he might have believed you. The world seemed to have frozen, with Jon starting at him with that determined look, and those two words still ringing in his ears.

"Could, um, could you repeat that, please." Martin's voice was high and quiet when he eventually convinced his mouth to move again.

Jon still had that determined look set on his face. In one quick motion he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, and slipped off the couch, kneeling in front of where Martin was sitting.

He took a deep breath and locked his gaze on Martin, "Martin Blackwood, will you marry me?"

Martin's eyes moved between Jon and the ring box and back again. He was pretty sure he had stopped breathing at this point, and he was starting to wonder his heart had stopped as well, his entire body was just in such a state of disbelief. He might have sat there and continued to stare at the scene before him if it hadn't been for the anxiety that was clearly creeping over Jon. 

"Yes."

"Yes?" Jon gasped.

"Yes. Yes, yes, absolutely yes." Martin leant forward, his hands on either side of Jon's face, and kissed him, "Of course I'll marry you, Jon."

Climbing back onto the couch, Jon let out a small noise somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. He leaned in for another kiss and Martin could feel how widely he was smiling as he did. It all seemed so unreal. There were so many emotions swelling up in his chest he worried it might just burst open. They had talked about this before, sure, especially since they news had come out they'd be able to do it here in England next year, but he had just figured that he would have been the one to do it. Jon was never really one to make the first move, it had always been Martin who had done that - asking him out, their first kiss, saying 'I love you', asking to move in together - so Martin had just assumed this would have been the same. Hell, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been looking at rings himself, lately. But Jon had just asked him. He'd asked him to marry him, after probably planning for weeks, trying to make the whole thing perfect. Maybe it hadn't been as _perfect_ as Jon had hoped, but Martin couldn't care. Because Jon had asked. And he said yes.

Jon pulled back from the kiss just slightly, enough to press their foreheads together, "I love you."

Martin had never believed those words more than he did in that moment.

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SECRET COFFE SHOP AU, HURT/CONFORT, PROPOSALS, ASEXUALITY, WHAT'S NOT TO LOVE  
> And yes, I have made Martin ace in this fic, and no one can stop me. The only question is am I projecting more by assigning Martin what is basically my particular brand of ace, or by living out my deep deep desire to find a partner who I don't feel like I'm disappointing them with my sexuality vicariously through these two. WELP that was enough over sharing for today, hope you all enjoyed!


	11. Conversations with Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the kiss, a restless night, and a Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a little longer for me to get done, it's crunch time for uni students so I've been kinda swamped lately. So things might be a little slow for the next two weeks, but then I should hopefully have more time after that. Enjoy the chaos!

"Ok, so, one more time. You two are married."

"Yes."

"And you both ended up getting jobs here."

"Yes."

"So you've been pretending like you're not."

"Yes."

"Because of HR's whole fraternization policy thing."

"Yes."

Sasha sat with her hands folded in front of her and her eyes closed tightly for a while. They'd gone over everything at least three times now, so she definitely knew the story. At this point they knew she was just trying to make sense of it all.

"You two do understand how absolutely insane this is, right?"

Jon and Martin exchanged a glace, taking their own pause to consider their answer.

"Yes." They sighed in unison.

She whispered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously to them like "I'm working with idiots" as she stood up and began pacing the room. Her glasses were now in one of her hands while the other pinched at the bridge of her nose. Though her initial irritation at them had faded, with each repetition of the facts a new frustration was blooming in her.

"How long did you guys think you could keep this up for? Were you just going to create this little double life for yourselves? Keep up the act until, what, one of you finds a new job? Or cross your fingers you get transferred again? Seriously, did you even thing about how long you'd have to maintain this little schtick?"

Jon hesitated to answer, "Well, we've made it work for a few months now-"

" _A few months_? Christ, Jon, you realize Gertrude was Head Archivist for _decades_ , right? This isn't some short term position, they expect you to be here for a long time. It's not like you just have to deal with this for _a few months_ and it'll be over. This is years we're dealing with here. And Martin, didn't you tell me you were in that same position in the library since, like, 2010? Did you two actually think you could keep pretending like you hardly knew each other for that long?"

Neither of them dared to say anything. She was right. They really hadn't thought about how long they might have to keep this up for. Mostly they were just hoping for the best, and it just hadn't dawned on them that they might have to keep this act up for years. They hadn't even discussed any alternatives yet, like trying to get transferred, looking for new jobs altogether. For some reason it had never crossed their minds to consider that. Maybe they weren't fond of PDA's in general, and keeping physical affection out of the workplace wasn't a problem, but the more Jon thought about pretending to hate Martin for _years_ made his head spin.

Sasha spoke up again, her voice now considerably softer, "Hey, look, I'm sorry if I'm being harsh, I know this can't be easy for you. I'm just worried. You're both putting so much on the line here. And maybe I'm also a little hurt that it feels like you didn't trust me with this, but mostly I just don't want to see you two get hurt."

"We do trust you, Sasha." Jon assured her, "We just didn't want to get people involved who didn't need to be. It isn't fair to you that you have to keep our secret."

She nodded, "I know, I know. And I get it, it's hard to keep a secret if everyone knows about it. But sometimes it also helps to have people who have your back.

The idea of Sasha being their ally in this was a bit of a relief, they had to admit. They really did trust her, and so they knew she wouldn't want to see anything bad happen to them. Know someone was willing to back them up made the task feel a little less daunting.

Jon smiled a little, for the first time since she'd walked into his office, "You do have a point."

"I do. Now don't get me wrong, Martin really had me with his whole accountant story. Well, obviously, given how things went earlier. But just think about how much easier it will be for your guys with Tim and I help-"

"Tim?"

Sasha froze midsentence. Her eyes slowly slid shut and she breathed out a long huff of air, "You are planning on telling Tim now, aren't you?"

There was another short pause before Jon responded in a meek voice, "We, um, we weren't really planning on telling him, no."

"Oh god fucking dammit." Sasha breathed out. She dropped back into her chair, "Are you kidding me? You're seriously just going to leave him as the one person in this office who doesn't know? All of us keeping a secret from him? Yeah, sure, that's not going to make him paranoid or anything. Certainly don't see any problems there. Why the hell aren't you guys going to tell Tim?"

A string of mumbled syllables was all Jon could manage, so Martin answered her, "Well, it's like Jon said, the less people who know, and all that."

"That's not a good reason to not tell him when the rest of us know." She snapped back.

"Well-"

"Well what? Jon, this is _Tim_ we're talking about. You've known him for years now, you know he's a good guy. And you know he can keep a secret. I-" Her eyes shut tight again as she cut herself off. Letting out a tired sigh she leaned back in her chair, "You know what, no. This isn't my decision to make, I'm sorry. This is up to you two, it's your secret, you get to choose what you do with it. I may not understand it, but this is your decision, not mine."

"We know it's a lot to ask Sasha, to keep this from him. That's why we didn't want to tell you." Martin said softly, "I'm sorry it had to turn out like this, but please, we're just not ready to risk telling him. Not right now."

"I understand. You didn't even mean for me to find out, I get it. It's alright." She stood up and grabbed her coat from where it had been thrown across her desk, "It's getting pretty late, we should probably all call it a night."

With a nod in agreement, Jon and Martin stood as well. They started gathering their stuff while Sasha headed towards the door. Just before she left, she pause.

"But, guys, please do consider it. Telling Tim. I promise you, I will not tell him, but just consider letting him know."

* * *

The bed dipped beside Jon as Martin laid down next to him. It was completely silent in the room, save for the sound of the occasional car on the street outside. They hadn't talked much since they arrived home. They both knew they needed to talk about it, to reformulate their plan and think about what to do next, but neither seemed willing to break the silence.

So they laid there, starting up at the ceiling in a dark bedroom, until Jon finally worked up to courage to speak.

"We're not telling Tim."

"No. Definitely not."

"Because...because we're not."

"We're not."

"It would just make it too complicated."

"Yes, too complicated, exactly."

"It would be too many people."

"Yeah." 

There was another creak from the bed from Martin turning onto his side to face Jon, "But, like, is there _actually_ a reason we're not telling him?"

Jon stayed on his back, eyes locked on the ceiling, "It's because...well, we...I...because we can't."

"We can't?"

"No, we can't. Or at least we shouldn't. Because..." With a loud groan Jon pushed himself up to sitting, "We had a plan, Martin. And we agreed we would stick to that plan. Maybe there's been a bit of a hiccup, sure, but that doesn't mean we have to abandons it all together."

Hearing the tension building in Jon's voice prompted Martin to sit up at well. He placed his hand on Jon's back, gently rubbing a line up and down his spine, "Hey, it's alright, I was just wondering."

Jon curled forward a little, his hands coming up to tangle in his hair at the crown of his head, and his elbows resting against his knees. The initial shock of it all had dulled some of the feelings that were swirling inside of him, but here in the dark and quite of his flat there was nothing stopping all the shame and anxiety for bubbling up to the surface.

"Sasha wasn't even supposed to find out. She should never have known about this. It was stupid of me. I knew it was stupid and I did it anyway. If I just hadn't been so carless-"

"Wow, Jon, it's ok. This wasn't your fault, it was just an accident."

"But if I hadn't kissed you in my office-"

"Jon, listen to me." The stern tone Martin's voice took made Jon turn his head to face him, "This was not your fault. You had no idea Sasha was coming back. You don't need to blame yourself for this."

It took Jon a second to answer as he tried to accept what Martin was saying, "...Ok."

Martin nodded, the smile on his face just visible enough in the dark, "Alright. Good. Now, let's drop this for tonight. We can talk about what we want to do in the morning. It's getting pretty late, and I know how tired you are-"

"I'm fine Martin." His voice a little too breathy to be convincing.

He didn't need to be able to see clearly to know exactly the face Martin was wearing now, "Jon. We both know you've had a week from hell. You've barely slept in days. You can't think clearly when you're like this, you need to sleep. We can work this out tomorrow."

Part of his brain knew that Martin was right. That tired part that remembered just how overworked and exhausted he was. But the rest was still roaring with everything that had happened, drowning out that voice telling him to rest.

"No, no, I just need to-"

"No, you need to sleep."

"But-"

"Sleep, Jon."

"I...I think I'm going to go read for a bit." Though he was pretty sure it would involve more sitting on the couch staring off into nothing than actual reading. He didn't really have any desire to read, he just wanted to try anything to try and distance himself from the spiral of thoughts still going through his head. His mind was so singularly set on escaping to the living room that he hardly noticed the groan Martin let out in response. 

As he started to stand Martin reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him back down onto the bed. Martin threw his arm over Jon, pulling him in closer, as he rolled half on top of him and pinned him there.

"Nope. Enough worrying for tonight. Time for sleep."

"But-"

"No buts. Just sleep." He punctuated it with a quick kiss on Jon's forehead, before he let his head drop back onto the pillow.

There was still a small part of him that wanted to protest, to run off and try and solve this, but it was no match for the comforting weight that was Martin surrounding him. Enveloped in that feeling of him, the exhaustion finally won out, and Jon's eyes fluttered shut before he could even give resisting a second thought.

* * *

Monday rolled around much too soon for Martin's liking. The weekend had been taken up by so much worrying that he was dreading the thought of returning to the archives. He had no idea what to expect when he walked through that door. He trusted Sasha, he _did_ , he knew she wouldn't say anything to anyone. But it did little to remedy that chill than ran down his spine as he approached the institute. That overwhelming feeling of being _known_. It was like the building itself knew all his secrets, like the walls were watching his every move, ready to reveal everything.

When he got down to the archives, thought, everything was normal. Completely normal. Well, relatively normal. As normal as you can get with a creepy old institute that deals with horrifying supernatural things, doing they type of research that could often be considered 'questionably legal'. But, still, normal for the archives.

Jon's office door was shut, and probably had been since he arrived there half an hour ago. Tim had case file in one hand, and a cup of coffee in his other, a position that he was certain would make Jon's blood boil if he saw it. And Sasha. Just quietly typing away at her computer. She didn't even acknowledge when he came in, only turning to wave to him once he had sat down at his desk. It should have been a comfort to Martin, everything being business-as-usual like that, but that shiver of anxiety remained. Stuck somewhere in the back of his mind was that feeling like something was coming, that he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So he just started working, trying to crush down those nerves and ignore the fact that that feeling of eyes on him was stronger today than it had been over the last few months. But it seemed to work. As he read over files, and looked through records, and typed up findings, the tension relaxed a little. It felt less like there was an axe hanging over his head, and maybe more like there was one sitting in a room down the hall. He was starting to wonder if this was why Jon was always trying to work himself ragged. The more he focused on the tasks in front of him the more he could drown out that voice telling him _they know, they know, they know_.

His nerves where almost calm by the time lunch rolled around and the conversation picked up between the archival assistants. Talk to the other two even seemed to do something to help settle him further. That is, until Sasha asked him a question.

"Oh yeah, Martin, I'd been meaning to ask. What was that meeting you had with Jon on Friday about?"

At that, his heart was back in his throat, and those nonexistent eyes were boring holes through his spine. The way Tim perked up at the question did nothing to help.

"Yeah, what was that about?" Tim turned to face him, and Martin suddenly could help but feel he was being interrogated, "It was kinda weird, him asking to see you before you left and all that. Usually when he wants to talk to one of us he just waits until it's convenient for him and demands we drop whatever we're doing for him."

Martin silently cursed the temperature control in the archives. It would be hard to make excuses if he was sweating right now in a room that constantly had the air conditioner on. 

"Friday? Oh, it was nothing, just some work stuff." He kept his voice as nonchalant as he could, "It wasn't a big deal."

"Everything alright?" Tim asked, earnestly. 

"Yeah, is everything alright? You were in there a while, weren't you?" Sasha added, less earnestly. 

Martin decided that playing dumb was his best bet here, "Was I? I didn't really notice."

There was something in the way Sasha's head tilted that made him extra cautious, "I'd say you were. I left my laptop charger here, and it was probably a good half hour after I left when I came back to get it, and when I did you stuff was still here and Jon's door was still closed."

Things finally clicked in Martin's mind as he figured out exactly what was going on here. Sasha still thought Tim should know the truth, but she had promised that she wasn't going to tell him. And she wasn't going to tell him. What she was going to do, however, was to try to get him to tell him. Or, at least, to try and get him to say something that might give it away. 

But it was alright. Martin didn't mind a challenge.

"I guess you're right." Martin said, the edge in his voice obvious only to Sasha, "There was this one form in my file that we had to go over the details for. Somewhere along the way something got messed up, so we had to clear that up."

"Was that all? I wouldn't think that would take that long." Sasha narrowed her eyes so slightly that Martin might have missed it if he wasn't paying attention.

The real problem was Tim had also raised his brow at that answer. Some vague comment about a nondescript form was obviously not satisfying enough for either of them. Martin scrambled for a second to come up with something else.

"Oh, well, we did discuss one of the statements. Or, rather, my work on one of the statements. He thought I wasn't quite thorough enough, you know. Wanted me to do some more digging."

This time it was Tim who chimed in, "Really? Which statements."

"Oh, um," _Dammit what was one you've done recently, any of them_ , "Uh, Carlos Vittery. The ghost spider one. I'm going to try and do some more follow up on that one. I was thinking about heading over there sometime soon, see what I can find and all that."

_Well, I guess you're stuck doing that now, great_

Tim nodded, seemingly sufficiently happy with the answer. Sasha still had that same knowing look in her eyes, but she seemed to realize it wasn't worth pushing it now. 

"Cool, hopefully that goes well for you. And I'm glad to hear everything is alright."

"Thank you, Sasha, I appreciate the concern." With one final smile, he turned his attention back to his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sasha, Sasha, Sasha, my wonderful brilliant lady, what kind of plot have you cooked up now >:)
> 
> Thanks for all the comments on the last two chapters, by the way. It was really incredible, you guys really turned up for those two. Like seriously, I never expected this kind of response to this and I can't tell you how grateful I am for you guys. Also extra shout out to those of you who are leaving regular comments, like one or more with every chapter and stuff, you guys are amazing.


	12. A Risky Game to Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thursday afternoon, the archive crew are chatting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm, a lot of you seem very concerned about that Carlos Vittery mention, I wonder what that is all about /sarc  
> Also it's continuing the trend where you guys comment what you think is going to happen next with something and my reaction is just "......well damn, why didn't I think of that."  
> Also also, I'm sorry that Sasha is being a dick, she's not trying to be mean, she has her reasons for it please don't hate her yet hahaha  
> Also also also, I tried to use the word jumper in this, since it makes more sense because they are British, but I am not, so if you see sweater instead please just roll with it

By the time Thursday had arrived, Sasha had made two more goes at her little game. Now that Martin knew they were coming he was able to psych himself up for them, be more prepared. It was never anything obvious, just questions about weekend plan, did his husband and him have anything special going on; or some comment that was clearly an attempt to try and get him to reveal some detail about his beloved 'accountant'. Tim, luckily, didn't seem to be picking up on it too much. He and Sasha both appeared to be good enough liars that they were having a whole different conversation right in front of him, and he would have never known it.

Martin hated to admit it, but it was almost fun.

When most people first met Martin they saw him as this big, sweet guy. They would see him as kind, and polite, a little shy, maybe a bit clumsy, things like that. And sure, those things were true, but they also worked to help disguise something that lay just beneath the surface. Something a bit more cunning and clever. Something that saw this challenge of wits and deception and jumped at the chance to take it. Perhaps it was a bit of a gamble, but that something in Martin was more than willing to risk it. When you spend as much of your life lying to other people about things like your education, or your job history, or your age, or your sexuality, et cetera et cetera, you start to pick up a bit of a knack for it.

Nothing had been said between them over the few days that this game had been going on. Even their occasional texts to one another had remained as friendly and mundane as they usually were. So when Sasha walked into the breakroom while Martin was making himself some tea, and they found themselves alone for the first time that week, he decided that maybe it was time to see exactly what he had gotten himself into.

He had just turned the kettle on when she moved towards the fridge, "The usual late lunch, I see."

"The usual afternoon tea, I see." She looked at him over her shoulder, eyes narrow and smile bright.

There were a few beats of quiet between them before Martin spoke again, "You know that I know what you're doing, right?"

"Oh? And what exactly would that be, Martin?" Her tone answered his question more than her words did. She obviously knew what he was talking about, but she wasn't going to admit to it without Martin saying it directly. An admirable play, if he had to be honest.

"That you've been trying to catch me off guard with questions and trick me into saying something about..." He stopped himself quickly, remembering that someone could walk in on them, or pass by the room and hear them talking, "...about my husband."

Sasha stiffed slightly, having not expected him to be quite so direct quite so quick, "...Maybe I am."

"Sasha!" Martin let out an exasperated sigh, "You agreed to keep this a secret."

"And I am. Technically. It's not like I've told anyone, or asked anything really specific or anything. So maybe I'm trying to give Tim some little hints to maybe make him a little curious, that isn't _technically_ revealing your secret." She gave a little half laugh, "Not like it's been working anyway."

Martin couldn't help but stand up a little tall at that, "Well...you're not wrong about that."

"OH! I knew it. I knew it!" Her voice was filled with that fake offence that was so clearly lighthearted under its bite, "You can criticize me all you want for my little scheme, because, well, that's fair honestly. But I see that little look you give me when you dodge my questions. Don't you dare pretend like you don't get some kind of satisfaction out of this."

The sides of Martins mouth curled up almost against his will, "Ok, ok, maybe you're right about that, I'll confess."

"Menace. You, Martin Blackwood, are an absolute menace." She half spoke, half laughed.

"Hey, what can I say, I kinda out of my element down here with most things. Maybe it's just nice to get to do something I'm pretty good at."

Sasha finally sat down with her lunch, and Martin joined her, taking the seat on the opposite side of the table.

"You aren't wrong about that last part. You had Tim and I fooled for ages. Honestly I that's why I've only been picking on you with this whole thing."

"Oh really?" It hadn't struck Martin until she said it that Sasha had only been picking on him. Sure Jon was holed up in his office most hours, but even when he was out on break, she never tried anything with him.

"Yeah, guess I sorta figured you'd be...up for the challenge." She shifted a little in her chair, clearly trying to think of the best way to phrase what she was trying to say, "Since...well...you know, your, um, your husband, he's...not exactly...quite as... _skilled_ in lying as you are."

"Ah. I see...honestly, yeah, that's fair."

A few quiet giggles escaped from Sasha, "If his reaction on Friday is anything to go by, I don't think he'd be able to handle the stress of it. Poor thing looked like his soul had left his body when I..." She let the words drift off, purposefully leaving the last part unsaid. 

Martin let out a snort of laughter, "You're not wrong. But, hey, I think our souls were floating off with his for a good few seconds there."

"Yeah, they really were. Not what any of us were expecting for our Friday evenings, I suspect."

Together they just laughed for a minute, basking in the ridiculousness of what had happened. It was an accident, and she'd reacted pretty well, all things considered, so it wasn't like Martin could hold any of that against her. So now all he could do about everything that had happened that night was look back on it and laugh.

Even with her little scheme, Martin couldn't bring himself to be angry at Sasha. Maybe a little irritated, but not really angry. It wasn't like she actually meant them any harm. As the laughter died down, though, Martin realized that thought he had figured out her game pretty quite, he hadn't actually stopped to consider the why of it. Sure she wanted them to tell Tim, but why did she them to so badly.

"Would you mind if I asked you a question?"

Sasha looked back up at him, swallowing a bite of her lunch, "No, I don't mind, what is it?"

"Why are you doing this? Like, why do you want Tim to know so bad?"

For a second she looked a little taken back by the question, and then her face dropped slightly as she considered her answer, "It's just, I don't...I don't like keeping secrets form Tim. I don't like leaving him out of stuff."

Martin could see that there was more that there was more she was trying to say, so he just nodded his head and didn't say anything. Let her know that he was listening, and it was ok for her to keep going.

She seemed to pick up on his signal when she flashed him a small smile, "He's my best friend, I've know him for a while, and so I know that there are things that...bother him, even if he won't admit to him. As you might have noticed he's a bit of a massive extrovert, and he likes feeling like the people around him are his friends and like he can rely on them, and-"

"And you're afraid that if he finds out we've been keeping secrets from him, he'll feel...excluded?" He wasn't sure it was exactly the word to use, but the way Sasha nodded told him it was close enough to whatever she might have had in mind.

"Yeah, pretty much. He doesn't...do great when he feel like that. But then he also tends to try and bottle up he feelings about it up, and that just makes it even worse. He starts to, kinda...isolate himself, you know?"

He knew exactly what she was talking about. He knew it all too well. That horrible lonely feeling. Like no matter what you do you'll be that odd person out. The one who doesn't quite fit. Never anyone's first choice. That feeling that there's no one you can really turn to, not even really because you can't trust anyone, but more so because you don't know if they'll even care. Tim had never struck Martin as the kind of person who would feel these types of things, but then again, there was a lot that you might not know about a person after only a few months.

"I get it, Sasha, I really do. I'm sorry."

"So, what about you, Martin? Why are you doing this? Trying so hard not to tell Tim, that is."

Martin sighed, "Honestly, I...I think I agree with you Sasha. I think we should tell Tim. At this point it just makes sense. But... _he_ just isn't there yet. He's not ready to take that risk, and it's not fair for me to force him to take it."

"Yeah, I get that." She nodded, "I obviously don't know him as well as you do, but I know it's not fun trying to change his mind once he's set it on something."

"No, it certainly is not." Martin wasn't sure if pulling teeth or herding cats was the more fitting comparison, "I'm going to talk to him, and hopefully he'll see that it'll just be easier to tell Tim. I'm sure he'll come around to it eventually, once he has time to look at all the facts. But for right now, he's pretty dead-set on this. I think more than anything he want's to try and protect me with this whole thing, so he's going to need time to come around on a change of plans."

"That's sorta sweet. That he's trying to protect you with all this."

He could feel the warmth start to prickle up in his cheeks, "Yeah, I guess it is...hey, did I ever tell you that this was all his idea to begin with."

"Oh my god." Sasha's head dipped as she started to laugh again, "Why am I actually not surprised by that."

* * *

Even though Jon was rid of most of the anger he had felt last week, he was not yet rid of the work form it. Where last week it had made him irritable enough to snap at his assistants, this week it just made him tired. So, so very tired. 

Stepping out of his office, he was almost thankful for how quiet the assistants space was. It took him a second to realize that quiet was because there was only one other person in the room, silently flipping through a case file.

"Where are Sasha and Martin?" Jon stepped over to the edge of Tim's desk.

Tim looked up, pulling out his earbuds, "Hmm, oh, breakroom, I'm pretty sure. Sasha just left to go take her lunch break, so I would guess that's where she is. And Martin was making tea, so he's definitely there. Need them for something?"

"No, not them specifically. I've just finished with a rather sizable number of statements, I was looking for some assistance with making sure they are organized properly so that they can be returned to storage. Are you able help with that?"

"Yeah, sure, I can do that." Tim put the file back down on his desk, "I was pretty much done with that one anyway. Just double checking I didn't miss anything important."

"Excellent. They should mostly be in order, now. I just need you to make sure there aren't any mistakes. After that, return them to the correct place in the archives." 

"Can do, boss." He added a salute and a wink. Jon rolled his eyes at it.

"Yes, thank you, Tim." Jon muttered, absentmindedly brushing his hands over his jumper, smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles. Every time Tim began fooling around something in Jon's brain made him want to at that much more studious, as if to balance out Tim's joking.

As his hands came back to his sides, he noticed Tim making a strange face at him, looking him up and down, "You know, Jon, it's a very lovely jumper, but I think it _might_ be a little big on you."

For the first time today Jon actually stopped to look down at what he had put on that morning. He'd come in rather early that morning, so it had still been dark out when he had got ready for work, and Martin had still been asleep so he hadn't wanted to wake him, and he had just been so _tired_. He hadn't really cared. Just stumbled around in the dark until he found something that seemed like it would be sufficiently soft and warm and yanked it on over his dress shirt. So now he was finally looking at it. A comfortable cable knit thing, made of beautiful navy blue wool. It was indeed a nice jumper. And it was Martin's.

There wasn't a doubt that it was Martin's. The style screamed Martin. It looked like the kind of thing you'd buy from some sweet old woman who knit them by hand, and that you'd wear on a chilly night while you sat by a fire. It was the kind of jumper that would instantly bring the word cozy to mind. Which was one of the last words Jon would ever think of to describe his own wardrobe.

There was also the matter of the size of it, as Tim had noted. The thing hung down past his hips, and covered his hands, and draped over his shoulders. It was clearly several sizes too big on Jon. He was almost shocked that he hadn't noticed that he had grabbed Martin's jumper until now, but, then again, he "borrowed" Martin's clothes at home enough that it had felt completely normal having it on. 

"Oh. Um, yes well," He cleared his throat, and tried to ignore the heat burning across his cheeks, "Yes, I guess it is."

Tim waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive way that made Jon feel like his whole body was full of butterflies, "It certainly is. It wouldn't happen to be...someone else's? Perhaps, oh, I don't know, a boyfriend's, maybe?"

It took Jon a few tries to finally manage to get his mouth working enough for a coherent sentence, "It is not! This is not...it's not...a _boyfriend's_ jumper, Tim!"

"Not a boyfriend's?" 

"No, it is not."

"Interesting." For a few beats Tim just kept his eyes locked with Jon's, but then his teasing expression shifted to something entirely different, "Oh. _Oh_. Ok, I see. _Not_ a boyfriend's jumper, then. I get it."

"Tim, what are you imply-"

"It's alright Jon, you don't have to say anything. I understand. I know how hard break-ups can be."

"What?"

"Hey, listen, I think I still have a shirt I kept after I broke up with this guy back in uni. I know the girl I was dating back when I did my masters took at _least_ one of my sweatshirts with her after we ended things." Pushing away from his desk a little, he leaned back in his chair, looking at Jon with the strangest mix of gentleness and seriousness, "It's alright, I totally get it. Sometimes it's nice to have that little piece of you ex to keep around. But, just remember, eventually that jumper has to come off. You have to remember that there are other jumpers out there, and at some point you have to start consider looking for a new one."

Jon could feel a headache steadily growing the more Tim spoke. By now his hands were pressed against his face, as if he could hide behind them and sneak away from this mortifying conversation, "Tim, I am begging you, please stop."

"You know, if you were considering...a new jumper, I can probably help you out with that. Maybe help you find you one that might suit you-"

"Tim, is this really an appropriate conversation to be having with you boss?" Jon snapped at him.

"Hey, you've been my friend much longer than you've been my boss. So, I'm saying as a friend, that if you need anything, just let me know, I'm happy to help."

Letting out a long sigh, Jon flashed a smile at Tim, "Thank you, Tim, I appreciate your concern. Actually, there is something I think of that you can help me with."

Tim brightened up a little, eagerly sitting up in his chair, "Oh? What is it?"

With the sweetest grin he could manage, Jon responded, "Organizing and refiling statement." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, the inspiration behind Sasha's comments about Tim and being left out of things is because I'm writing an essay for a psych class on Tim (I am not kidding, I seriously am) and I have now spent so much time thinking about and writing about his insecurities & stuff that the idea of him being excluded from things made me SAD :)  
> But yeah, I have decided that both Martin and Sasha are little shits and I love that for them. They're also just both trying to look out for their boys, and I love that for them as well.


	13. Archive Bonding Take 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another trip to the pub

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Using the same plot device as I did eight chapters ago? Absolutely. And you can't stop me. This whole chapter is just incredibly stupid and I will admit wholeheartedly that it's filler before I get to some more ~ploty~ stuff.

How they had managed to convince him to do this the first time was still somewhat of a mystery to Jon. How they managed to convince him twice was something we was certain he would never understand. But now here he was, sitting in that same little pub they'd first come to together all those weeks age, wishing he hadn't let Tim persuade him into being here. 

Tim was across from him, going on about something Jon hadn't bothered to fully pay attention to. Currently his attention was very much focused on not letting himself sit too close to Martin. He'd been the last person to sit down, and Tim had taken the seat at the booth beside Sasha, so sitting next to Martin had been his only option. This wasn't necessarily a problem, but he wasn't willing to risk anything, so he sat far enough away from Martin that they weren't likely to bump into each other, while also trying not to get too close to the edge of the booth. As much as he was worried about unconsciously cuddling against Martin after a few drinks, he also didn't really prefer the idea of falling out of the booth and onto the floor of the pub. The humiliation of that aside, he wasn't really interested in getting an up-close look at what exactly all that dirt and those stains down there were.

"What about you Jon?"

He started slightly as Tim's voice pull him out of his head, and his eyes away from the ground. They were all looking at him now, curious looks on their faces, and he didn't have a clue what they wanted from him.

"Uh, sorry, what...what were you talking about?"

From the way Tim rolled his eyes and Sasha laughed, he had a feeling they had suspected he wasn't listen when Tim had asked the question.

"Tim had been regaling us with some of his wilder stories from university." Sasha explained.

"So, tell us, boss," Tim grinned across the table, "What's something crazy you did in uni?"

"I didn't really-"

"Oh come on, sure you did."

Really there wasn't too much to tell. Uni had been relatively tame for Jon, just a whole lot of studying and papers and tests. And was that really such a bad thing? He'd been focused on his education. For the most part, at least.

Were there a few things he could bring up that might count as 'crazy' for him? Sure, but he just really wasn't sure how much he wanted to tell them about it. After all, most of his wilder uni moments had unfortunately been captured on video, and would likely be much too easy for Tim and Sasha to find for Jon's liking.

_Do not tell them about your band, do not tell them about your band, do not tell them about you band, do not tell them about..._

"I, um, I don't know, I got some piercings." He shrugged, crushing down the memories of blaring drums and guitars, "Did a bit of am-dram."

The look on Tim's face shifted from teasing to shock, "Wait, hold up, you _what_?"

"Did am-dram...armature dramatics?"

"No, no, I know what am-dram is Jon, and I believe that." Jon wasn't quite sure how to feel about the implication that Tim had apparently already clocked him as a former theater kid, "What was that about the piercings?"

He was now starting to regret letting even that little bit of information slip, "Well, yes, I, um, I got a couple of piercings back in my first few years at uni. I guess I had...considered them before, and then my girlfriend at the time encouraged me, so...I got my ears done first, and then it just...kept going..."

"Kept going?" Sasha leaned in a little closer, the same surprised look on her face as Tim had.

"Yes...uh, yes, so got those done, and then I believe did the helix piercing next, then a second hole in my earlobes, and then my last one I, um, I actually got my septum pierced. Didn't think that last one suited me as much as the others did, but it was still a fun experience to have it."

Sasha and Tim were both looking at him with wide eyes. Martin was also looking at him with a similar shocked face, but he had known about all this for years, so Jon knew he was just putting on an act. 

"You," Tim pointed towards him, "mister super-professional, never-caught-dead-in-less-than-a-button-up himself. You have, not just one, but _multiple_ piercings? My god, this is incredible, you didn't come out of the womb wearing a tie after-all. Man, I bet you looked so cool, I would kill to see pictures of that."

"Not in a million years, Tim."

* * *

"I don't get why I have to come with you."

"Oh, come on," Tim looped his hand around Jon's arm and began pulling him up from his seat, "Just help me get this round. I'm not as good at carrying drinks as Sasha, and I don't want to drop anything."

Martin watched as Tim dragged the still protesting Jon towards the bar. He honestly wasn't quite sure why Tim was suddenly insisting on enlisting Jon's help all of a sudden, either. He'd seemed to do fine bringing the first two rounds over. The way Tim leaned against the bar when they were just far enough to not be heard clearly amongst the rest of the noise of the pub, though, made Martin suspect there might have been some ulterior motive to it.

"Hey, you think Tim's up to something?" He nodded his head in the direction of the bar, "Because he doesn't look like he's getting drinks right now."

"Hmm, I'm not sure. Seems like it. He didn't tell me about anything, though. I know he mentioned something about wanting to 'cheer Jon up", but I'm not really sure what he meant by that." 

"That's...weird." Martin tossed a suspicious look over to where Tim and Jon were talking.

Sasha's gaze followed his to them, "Maybe he just want's to get Jon drunk like last time."

"Oh Jesus, I hope not." With a roll his eyes came back to meet Sasha's.

"What, is he really that bad to deal with when he's drunk?" She laughed.

"Well, first of all, he snores when he's drunk, so that would be preferable to avoid. And second, he gets pretty...sappy when he's drunk. Like, if we hadn't had a table between us last time, I wouldn't have been surprised if he had tried to curl up in my lap after his second shot."

Her eye's lit up a little, "Oh my god, I remember the way he was staring at you that night. I thought he was just completely out of it. Oh, wow, that makes so much more sense now."

"Yeah, like I said, sappy. And given our current seating situation." He gave a pause for emphasis, and to make sure there was enough accusation in his words, "That is a bit more of a problem tonight."

Sasha gasped is mock offense, "Eh, don't give me that look! I didn't have anything to do with who sat where. Do you really think I would orchestrate where we sat to try and sabotage you?"

In response Martin just gave her a knowing look.

"Ok, ok, maybe that is something I would have thought of doing. But I didn't!" She squeaked out defensively, "I told you yesterday, I'm going to lay off it, I promise. And besides, like I said, I wouldn't try any of that stuff with Jon."

"It's fine, I know." It had been what they had agreed to yesterday before he went back to work; he was going to talk to Jon about telling Tim, and she was going to stop with her efforts to raise his suspicion. "So, doesn't look like they're getting drinks, what else do you think he could be up to?"

They both looked back to the other two. Tim hand his hand on Jon's back, saying something that caused Jon to become even more visibly flustered than he already was. Whatever they were talking about, Tim was clearly enjoying himself, and Martin wondered if any of that was because of how clearly Jon was not. Tim would never do something to genuinely upset any of them on purpose, but he did still like to get a rise out them when he could. Especially with Jon.

"Oh god, he's not..." Both of Sasha's hands came up to cover the lower half of her face, but it did little to muffle the snort of laughter that came out of her.

"What?"

It took her a few seconds to compose herself from the giggles that had taken her, "...what if he's going to try and get Jon to flirt with someone at the bar?"

Martin's jaw fell open. "He wouldn't"

_He better not._

"Honestly, I could see him trying it." She mumbled around another wave of giggles.

Part of Martin wanted to jump up and go save his husband from what he knew would be an absolutely mortifying conversation for him. The other part of Martin kind of wanted to where exactly this was going. He decided to compromise. If he saw Jon actually in distress, he's swoop in and get him out of there, but until then, he was just going to enjoy the show.

* * *

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Tim, but if your goal bringing me up here was a repeat of last time, it's not going to happen. I still regret that." Jon said as they got up to the bar. It was true he regretted what had happened last time, and he was not looking the deal with another headache like that anytime soon, but he decided to not mention his other motivation to avoid drinking like that again. He knew he didn't have a particularly high tolerance for alcohol, so anything after his third beer he knew was getting dangerously into the territory of him forgetting to not curl up against Martin in front of the others. 

Tim put his hand between Jon's shoulder blades, "Don't you worry, Jonny boy-"

"Never call me that again."

"-I'm not trying to get you drunk. No, I thought maybe while we were here, we might just talk a little."

"Talk?" Apprehension as clear in his words as it was in the lines on his face. 

"Yeah, talk. See how you're feeling. See if you've, oh, you know, maybe thought about that jumper conversation again."

For a few second Jon seriously considered walking out of the pub without another word. "We aren't seriously doing this again, are we?"

"Listen, I'm just trying to look out for you, Jon." His hand gave a few pats against the spot on his spine where it rested, "I know it's hard to get over someone. And sometimes you just need a friend to help you out with it. So, I thought maybe I couldn't give you some advice, some suggestions maybe."

Jon's head was already swimming from this. He couldn't be serious, this couldn't actually be happening to him right now. "Tim, what on earth are you talking about?"

"I'm just trying to offer a little help, here. Look, I know one thing that had helped me with break ups is, you know...considering what other options might be out there. So, I thought maybe you'd like to," He waved a hand in the direction of other people sitting at the bar, "Consider."

A shiver ran though Jon when he caught what Tim was implying. His stomach did a flip as he took a step away from Tim, "No. No no no, absolutely not. I don't know what the hell you were thinking, Tim, but I am not-"

"Hey, Jon, calm down, I'm not expecting you to do anything. It's not like I was trying to get you to go home with someone tonight, " Jon hoped his face didn't show quite as much disgust as he actually felt at the idea of it, "Hell, I don't even need you to talk to anyone. Like I said, I just want you to consider. Remind yourself that there are options out there."

His hands balled into fists at his sides, "Tim, I don't need to... _consider_ anything. I don't know why or how you got this idea into your head, but I really wish you would let it go."

"I know you're reluctant about all this, but I thought I might be good for you to think about it. Get your mind of the stress of work and everything else. Keep your options open. And maybe even remember that there are better options than...the ones you usually see."

He wanted to get out of that situation, tell Tim once again that there was no breakup, and nothing to get over, and that he was completely misguided about everything he was doing tonight, but something about that last part made him pause. There was some other implication in there, and despite his better judgment, Jon wanted to know what Tim could possibly have come up with this time.

"What exactly do you mean by 'usually see'?"

"All I'm saying that sometimes we get so used to things that we start thinking maybe that's what's best for us. We might start thinking that working for hours after we're supposed to leave is fine because it's worked for us so far, even if that isn't actually good for you. Sometimes we might catch feelings for someone just because we see them a lot, and maybe we get hung up on that, and it makes all our other feelings a lot harder to handle. Maybe it's our friend....or our coworker." Tim locked eyes with him, brows raised, only glancing away one to look back at their table, "...our married coworkers."

Some of the words Sasha had said to Martin a week ago sprung back into Jon's mind. Words about how Jon "obviously had feelings" for Martin. It was almost too much for Jon to process. Not only had Tim gotten it in his head that he had had some horrible breakup in recent history, but he too seemed to have subscribed to the idea that Jon had some kind of hopeless crush on Martin. And apparently he thought those were related? Or at least that they were making each other more complicated? He wasn't entirely sure. Tim had a habit of speaking in subtext, and it meant Jon had to put in the extra effort to get to what he was actually trying to say. Right now, though, after two drinks and one of the most uncomfortable conversations he'd had in months, he didn't care enough to try and connect all those bits of hidden meaning into something coherent.

"I'm...I'm going back to the table now." Without another word Jon turned and started walking quickly back towards the other. 

"Wait, Jon, no, I actually do need help with the drinks, please." Tim called to him as he walked, but he walked back to the booth without even turning his head to acknowledge him.

As he sat down, Sasha and Martin turned to him, the tow of them a mix of curiosity and concern.

"So," Martin began, "what was all that ab-"

"I do not want talk about it."

* * *

Jon heard the door creaked open, about fifteen minutes after he had arrived home. He had left the pub earlier than Martin, mostly so that they weren't seen leaving together. Avoiding the possibility of anymore humiliating conversations was also a plus. Nothing else had happened after he had left Tim at the bar, but after that ordeal, he wasn't interested in risking another.

Martin, now rid of his jacket and shoes, joined Jon on the couch. He slid in close, placing an arm around his shoulders, and Jon went willingly as he was pulled into the embrace.

"You're still up, I thought you would have been in bed by now."

"It's not that late, Martin." Jon scoffed. "I knew you would be home soon, anyway, decided I might as well wait for you."

With a kiss on the top of his head, Martin tugged him in a little closer, and Jon relaxed against him. Though he did have fun during these outings with the other archive staff, they could still be a bit overwhelming at the end of the night, so it was nice to have a moment to decompress from it all. The feeling of his husbands arms around him, holding him safe and secure, certainly helped. His head rested against Martin's shoulder, and he let his eyes drift shut.

"It was definitely an interesting night, wasn't it." Martin breathed, just loud enough to be heard clearly.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

"Tim sure was acting weird."

"Oh god, Tim." Jon sat bold upright, eyes flying open, pulling himself away from the comfort of Martin's side, "I have no idea what has gotten into that man."

"He certainly seemed set on picking on you all evening."

"Yes, he did." His hands came up to rub small circles against his temples.

"I'm not even sure I want to know what that conversation you two had was about." Jon shook his head no, and Martin gave a sympathetic laugh, "Frankly I'm still not over his reaction to you mentioning your piercings."

Jon's posture relaxed slightly, and he looked back to Martin, "That was funny."

"He looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head when you said that," Martin looped his arms around Jon's waist, pulling him against him again, Jon's back now pressed to Martin's chest, "Maybe you should wear a pair of earrings on Monday, see how he reacts to that."

The mixture of the arms around his middle and the faint buzz of alcohol still in his system brought a fond smile across his face, and a flirtatious note to his voice, "Well now, I can't _actually_ do that, can I? I know you find me irresistible when I wear earrings. Wouldn't want you distracted from your work, would we?"

Jon could feel the laugh vibrate through Martin's chest, "Actually, you don't have to worry about that, remember? I'm off on a case Monday. You can show off your piercings to your hearts content, no fear of distracting your husband."

"Ah, yes, almost forgot about that follow up." Jon tilted his head up to look at Martin, "But even still, how could I deprive you was witnessing Tim's reaction?"

Martin pressed a kiss against his cheek, "Fair enough, I will accept that excuse. Now, come on, it's getting late, we should head to bed."

He nodded, though he was disappointed by the lack of contact as Martin released his hold on him. "Yes, you're right, we should. It's been a long week, I could use a good nights sleep."

"We both could," Martin said, pushing himself up from the couch, "Maybe next week go a little easier on us."

Jon followed Martin towards the bedroom, "I certainly hope so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was there any point at all to me having Jon have those piercings??? Absolutely not. But sometimes you just have to say fuck it and write something completely pointless. This chapter also saw the return of my trying to write Tim as this cool charismatic dude while I have a charisma score of 1.


	14. Where In The World Is Martin Blackwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Jon is stressed, but this week the assistants are pretty sure it's not because of work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, a lot of comments seem VERY certain of the direction that this was going in.......lets see how that goes for y'all :)  
> Quick heads up, this one does take a pretty solid dip into angst territory, so so much for my for my comment about not doing angst from a few chapters back hahaha  
> This is also where I am once again going to say that this fic honestly makes more sense if you just don't think about it too much. I started writing/plotting stuff before I actually did any research into basically anything in it, so as well as the timeline being a mess, the plot and details are also going to get very convoluted lol

It was a quiet evening, as Monday's often were. The sun had long since set, and the sound to be heard was the soft din of music from the old gramophone in the corner. Neither the sound of the door, or even a knock disturbed the quiet, but still Elias knew he was no longer alone in his house. He found it ironic, really, to be aware of the presence of another person, given who his current company was.

"I'm glad you were able to meet with me on such short notice, Peter." Only tipping his head up slightly form his book to watch as the other man took a seat in the armchair across from him.

"You said you needed a favor," Peter settled a little further into the chair, "So you could say I was intrigued. It's not often you're desperate enough to ask for help."

Elias shot a bitter look towards Peter, "I'm not desperate. Just opportunistic." 

"Alright, now I'm curious. What exactly is this about?"

Shutting his book with a loud snap, Elias placed it on the side table, and leaned forward, his hands lacing in front of him, "You see, Peter, one of my employees has found himself in a rather...stressful situation. He seems to have lost track of time after a somewhat complicated follow up." His face was twisted in an mocking smile of fake sympathy, "It's a long commute across the city, as you may know, and it's getting quite late, but it _just so happens_ that his travels took him past a hotel."

Peter's eyebrows knitted together, "And you would like me too..."

"Well, he has just _suddenly decided_ it would be easier to spend the night at this hotel-"

"That follow up he was doing didn't happen to involve spiders, did it?"

Elias's grin grew, thin lines forming around his eyes, "Oh course it did, now don't interrupt me. So, like I was saying, he's checking into a room, and I just thought, after such a rough day, that he might like some....peace and quiet..."

Leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, a smile crept onto Peter's face, "Peace and quiet, you say. Or, I guess you could call it, a bit of alone time."

"Yes, you could indeed call it that. But nothing too drastic, Peter, I am hoping to get this one back after this. I'd like to keep him around for a little while longer. Just make sure that he isn't disturbed."

Peter nodded, "Sounds doable. Anything else I need to know?"

"Oh, yes, a few more things, actually." There was that dark glint in Elias's eyes that told Peter he had something more planned for this, "He does have one...guest who will be coming to visit him. Don't bother pushing her away. I can promise you she won't be any detriment to anything your patron might be getting out of this."

"Anyone I would know of?"

"Possibly, but you will certain know who she is when she arrives. Her and her friend tend to make a bit of a scene wherever they go."

"And you said there was more?"

"Yes, just two more notes. Firstly, do leave the spiders alone, won't you."

"Naturally. And the other?"

"Would you be able to leave the boy something to eat? He won't be leaving that room for a few days, and if I must lose him this early on, I'd prefer for it to not be to something as mundane as starvation." He made a gesture with his hand, as if waving away the idea of his employee dying like that like is was nothing more than an particularity irritating fly. "Now, I recognize I may be asking for quite a bit, but of course I will return the favor."

Peter gave a low chuckle, "As you always do. I'm sure I can come up with something for you to do for me."

The devilish grin returned to Elias's face, "As _you_ always do."

* * *

Jon woke up Tuesday morning, and reached across the bed for a warm body beside him. As his hand felt around on the other side, though, he quickly realized that the bed was still cold next to him.

Martin hadn't been home before he had gone to bed last night, but they had discussed that that might happen. Martin was going to be out late on that follow up, since the...less legal things he had planned on doing would be easier after the sun had set. It was fine, he was going to be there in the morning.

But he wasn't.

And here was Jon, still alone in bed.

Concern started to seep through Jon and his hands shot over to grab his phone. The screen blinked to life, and Jon was happy to see that he did have a text message form Martin. Reading over the message, though, it did little to relieve the anxiety knotting inside him.

**Martin Blackwood (12:08am)** : "Got a call. Mum is sick. Won't be home, sorry."

He read over those ten words a dozen times. Something about it just didn't sit right with him about it. Maybe it was just the idea of Martin going off to see his mother on such short notice. Maybe it was that it Martin had only text him and apparently didn't even try to call. Maybe it was the fact Martin had gone alone, without even seeing if he would come with him.

But he had to trust Martin. 

_It was probably an emergency, so he couldn't wait to go up_

_And he was probably incredibly stressed. It was late and he was in a rush, he probably didn't have time to text more than that_

_It'll be fine_

_He's fine_

_I'm sure he's fine_

He looked at the words one last time, and typed out a response.

**Jon Sims (5:32am):** "It's ok. Keep me updated, and please let me know if there's anything I can do."

**Jon Sims (5:34am):** "I love you."

And with that, Jon put his phone back on the nightstand, and got up and got ready for work, ignoring the uneasy feeling that weighed heavy in his stomach.

* * *

It was Wednesday now, and still no updates from Martin. He hadn't even responded to any of the messages Jon had sent him, and the phone had just gone to voicemail when he had tried to call. Something definitely wasn't right. Sitting at his desk, his leg bouncing with the nervous energy, he wasn't able to get the thought out of his head. No matter what he tried, his mind would always wander back to Martin, and the fact that he hadn't even heard from him in over 24 hours.

When his phone buzzed, he nearly knocked over every other item on his desk grabbing it.

**Martin Blackwood (2:46pm):** "Sorry. Mum's still sick. Going to be gone a bit longer."

Well, it was eleven words this time round, so at least that was something. Staring at the screen, that sickly nervous feeling twisting in his gut again. He tried to look on the bright side of it, like the fact that Martin had responded at all, and supposedly he was still with his mother in Devon, so he at least wasn't missing. Martin was still out there, and still ok enough to text him.

_He's just upset right now, probably doesn't want to talk about it much_

_It's fine_

_Everything is fine_

Reading the message again, something bitter started blooming in his chest. It wasn't bitter towards Martin, though. If anything, it was bitter towards his mother. He knew she was old and weak, and her condition made her immune system vulnerable, and it wasn't fair to be mad at her from something she couldn't control, but still that spark of jealousy was there, desperate to have Martin back with him.

"Sick." Jon scoffed under his breath, "She's always sick. Don't see why she suddenly demands you be there with her after everything she's don-"

"Hey, boss!" The door to his office swung open, revealing Tim peaking out from around the corner, "I found those files you were asking for."

Jon quickly shoved his phone into his pocket, "Oh, uh, thank you, Tim, you can just leave them on the desk."

Tim took a few steps to the desk, placing the papers on a free sport near one of the edges. When he got close his eyes glanced over Jon, and his head tilted to the side quizzically. 

"You feeling alright, Jon? You look a little off today?"

"I'm fine." He grumbled defensively, "Was this everything?"

"Oh, actually, quick question." Tim said, seemingly unaffected by Jon's unpleasant demeanor, "Where's Martin been? Wasn't in today or yesterday. Is he out sick?"

The anxiety gripped tightly at Jon's chest, nearly making him gasp. With a deep breath he did his best to compose himself, despite the rapid rhythm his heart was beating out. 

He laced as much put-on disinterest into his voice as he could, "He had some family emergency. He did not provide anymore detail, and I could not be bothered to ask for any more, so that is all I know, and frankly, all I care to know."

There was a beat of silence before Tim responded, seeming to not have expected how cold Jon's voice had gone, "Um, ok...good to know. Yeah. Well, I'm going to get back to work, so, um, just let me know if you need anything else."

The door closed behind Tim. Jon let out a tired sigh and reached back into his pocket, pulling up the message to read it over again.

* * *

**Jon Sims (2:53pm):** "That's alright. I hope you're doing ok. Please tell me if you need anything at all. Love you."

**Jon Sims (6:40pm):** "I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. You know you can always talk to me, I'm here for you."

**Jon Sims (7:29pm):** "If you wanted I could come and join you. I have a few vacation days I could use, it wouldn't be a problem."

**Jon Sims (7:35pm):** "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, I'm just worried. If you need me to stop, I will, but I just want to know that you're safe."

**Jon Sims (8:21pm):** "I'm really starting to worry, Martin. You leave to go see your mother in the middle of the night, and now I've hardly heard from you in days."

**Jon Sims (8:21pm):** "I'm not upset with you, I just need to know you're ok."

**Jon Sims (9:15pm):** "I'm probably overreacting to all this, I'm sorry, but something just feels off about this."

**Jon Sims (9:15pm):** "I just want to know you're alright."

**Jon Sims (9:17pm):** "Maybe I've just been reading too many statements lately and they're making me paranoid."

**Jon Sims (9:18pm):** "Or maybe it was just because you were looking into a statement about spiders. You know how I get about those."

**Jon Sims (9:18pm):** "That's what it is, I'm just paranoid from that. I'm sorry that I've been bothering you so much."

**Jon Sims (9:19pm):** "I love you."

**Jon Sims (10:56pm):** "I'm really worried about you, please just let me know how you're doing."

**Jon Sims (11:39pm):** "Please, Martin, you're starting to scare me."

**Jon Sims (11:39pm):** "Please just tell me you're safe."

**Jon Sims (11:40pm):** "Something about this just feels wrong and I don't know what and I just need to know you're safe."

**Jon Sims (12:31am):** "I'm sorry Martin."

**Jon Sims (12:32am):** "Please just talk to me."

**Jon Sims (2:02am)** : "I love you, Martin."

* * *

Nothing since yesterday afternoon. 23 hours since the last message, and it just didn't sit right with Jon. He'd hardly slept last night, he hadn't been able to get his mind to stop spiraling. The sleep deprivation probably wasn't helping with the stress, he knew, but there were so many scenarios and possibilities playing out in his head, he couldn't get his mind to be quiet enough to settle down. A hundred and one possibilities of terrible things that might have happened to Martin, stuck on loop in his brain.

The worst part was, there was nothing Jon felt he could do but sit and wait. Calling and texting obviously wasn't working. He couldn't just go to Devon and try and find him himself. Not only did he have no idea where Martin was supposedly staying, but he'd only ever been up there with Martin once, and he hadn't even gone to the care home with him. He wasn't even sure he remembered the name of it to look it up. He couldn't file a missing persons report or anything like that, there was no actual reason to, Martin had told him where he was. Or at least where he was supposed to be, as one particularly paranoid train of thought liked to look at it. So, he was stuck. Just sitting in his office, alone, desperately waiting for another message.

He stared down at the pile of papers in front of him. There was plenty of work to be done, more by the hour it felt like, but he couldn't bring himself to actual get any of it done. He'd managed a few statements earlier, but the exhaustion of a long, anxiety ridden night was catching up with him. His eyelids had begun to flutter when he was sprung back awake by a gentle knock at his door.

"Come in." His voice was a bit rough, and worn.

The door pushed open with a soft creak, and Sasha stepped into the office.

"Hey, Jon." There was a soft click as she shut the door behind her, "I just wanted to come and check in on you."

Jon sat up a little straighter, trying to muster up whatever semblance of professionalism he could manage, "And why are you checking in on me."

Sasha sat in the chair on the other side of his desk. "Listen, Jon, I've been talking to Tim, and we've both noticed that you've been off the last few day. Specifically, the last few days where Martin has been 'away for a family emergency'. I'm guessing that the two probably have something to do with each other."

"Sasha, there really isn't-"

"Tim is in the breakroom, by the way, which means there isn't even a tiny chance he'll over hear us, so don't you go trying to lie to me, Jon." Her voice was firm, but he could hear the genuine concern ring through it, "Now, tell me what's going on. What's happening with Martin?"

He knew he had to say something, but the words wouldn't come to him. He just sat there, stiff, lips pressed together in a tight line, trying to hold together what little of him he could.

"Jon," she spoke again, her voice a little darker this time, "Where's Martin?"

With a heavy sigh, Jon slumped back in his chair. The words came out of him in a tired breath, "I don't know, Sasha. I...he's text me, twice, exactly twice, telling me that he's with his mother. Said that she was sick, and is was an emergency but...somethings just not right about this, Sasha. I don't know what it is, but there's just something wrong."

"Ok," She spoke in barely above a whisper now, "Ok, so you've at least heard from him, that's good. You said he told you he's with his sick mum, what else did he say?"

"Nothing. That's the thing, I haven't heard from him besides those two texts. One was just after midnight on Tuesday," He pulled the messages up to read to her, "'Got a call. Mum is sick. Won't be home, sorry.', and the other was just before three yesterday, 'Sorry. Mum's still sick. Going to be gone a bit longer.'. And that's everything. I've text him, I've called him, hell, I tried sending him an email, but there's been nothing."

Sasha was clearly trying to keep her face calm, but her own nervousness was starting to peak through, "That's...weird. That's really weird."

"I know. And I don't like it." He worried at one cuff on the sleeve of his jumper. Well, not his jumper. He'd grabbed one of Martin's to wear this morning, with soft, chunky wool, a subtle pattern in various shades of cream and brown. It was one of Martin's favorites. He hadn't planned on wearing it, but when his eyes had landed on it while he was getting dressed, every fiber of him demanded he put it on, desperate to have some part of Martin close to him.

They sat there for a while, not saying anything, the tension in the room growing steadily.

"I'm sure he's ok." Though her voice shook as she spoke, "He probably has a lot going on right now, just isn't think about texting back. Or maybe he just doesn't have good cell service? That's probably what it is, I bet. Just bad reception. It's happened to me a few times when I go out of town to somewhere."

"Yeah," Jon ran his hands over his face, then up into his hair, "Yeah, you're probably right. Certainly more plausible then at lot of the scenarios I've managed to come up with."

Sasha gave him a sympathetic look, and reached across the desk, her palm upward. Jon look at it, and after a moment of hesitation, he lowered one of his hand from his hair, and placed in in her outstretched hand. She gave it a squeeze.

"I should probably get back to work." She gave him an apologetic smile, "Please tell me if you hear anything from him, anything at all. And, also, please let me know if there is anything I can do for you. You're not alone, Jon, I'm happy to help however I can."

He gave her hand another squeeze, and shut his eyes tight, biting back the tears that had started pricking at the corners, "Thank you, Sasha. I...I really appreciate that...thank you."

* * *

50 hours. It had now been 50 hours since the last message.

Jon just kept repeating what Sasha had said to him yesterday, trying to drown out the symphony of panicked ideas that filled his head. It was just bad reception. That's what this was, just some bad cell service. The idea didn't do much to remedy to sick feeling in his chest, or the way his skin seemed to crawl when he thought about it all too much, but it had at least allowed him to get some work done.

It had also helped him sleep slightly better, he decided. Not much better, unfortunately, it was 2:24 when he had finally gotten to sleep this morning, but it was still a good hour or so more than he had gotten the night before. That little extra bit of sleep had helped him to keep his emotions somewhat more in check today. That is, if you considered occasionally snapping at your assistants more in check than wallowing at your desk.

Tim, apparently didn't.

Jon had been telling him about the files he needed him to look into next week when Tim hit him with, "Ok, Jon, that's it, you need to tell me what's going on with you."

He stood there taken aback until his brain finally came back online.

"I'm sorry, I need to tell you what?" He hissed back.

"Look, you've been acting really weird lately. Like, weirder than usual." He sounded one part concerned, and two parts pissed off, "Tuesday you were just a little jumpy, Wednesday you were acting like you couldn't be bothered with anything even though something was _clearly_ upsetting you, yesterday completely spaced out, and today it's like someone cranked your grumpiness setting to the max."

Jon quickly surveyed the room, looking for some backup, but he and Tim were the only ones there.

_Dammit, that's right, Sasha left early_

"...I-"

"You also look like something the cat dragged in." Tim continued, "I don't think you've brushed your hair since Tuesday. You look like you got, what, three hours of sleep last night? Four? This is also the second time this week you've worn a jumper that is _definitely_ not something you would usually wear to work, because it very obviously does not actually fit you. So something is up with you."

"It's nothing to do with you, Tim, now if you will excuse me." He took a step to leave, but before he could get far, Tim shot up out of his chair and grabbed him by the arm. Though not as tall as Martin, Tim was still several inches taller than Jon was, and considerable stronger, so he knew there wasn't any point in resisting. He was having this conversation whether he wanted to or not.

"No, it absolutely does have to do with me, Jon, because whatever it is, you're taking it out on me, and I'm not letting you get away with that. You can talk to me, seriously. Do I need to remind you that we were friends before you became my boss. Just tell me what's going on with you, I won't judge you, I promise."

"Tim, really, it's nothing you need t-"

"Does this have something to do with Martin?"

It felt like all of the air had been snatched out of lungs at once, " _I beg your pardon_."

"I'm serious, Jon." He dropped his hand from Jon's arm, bringing both of them up to gesture as he spoke, "It's just...you've been acting weird since Martin has been gone. And I started noticing just how weird you were being when I asked you about where he was."

"No, Tim, this doesn't-"

"Is he in trouble or something? Is it something to do with his follow up? Did he just screw it up that bad? Did he get hurt? I don't know, did he get arrested?"

"Tim!" Jon's voice came out as nearly a shout, since he knew it was the only way to get Tim to stop from cutting him off with more questions, "I have no idea where you get these _ridiculous_ ideas into your head, but they need to stop. I am telling you, right now, that however weird I may have seem to you this week, it has nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing to do with-"

This time, rather than Tim, he was interrupted by the door crashing open. They sound echoed through the room, followed by the sound of panting as the person now standing in the doorway tried to catch his breath. Jon and Tim stood there frozen, starting that he took a few steps into the room, slamming down a container on one of the desks. Then there, across the room, staring back at them...

"...Martin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I trapped him in a hotel. And I had him there for like less than half the time he's trapped in canon. And yes, for those of you who caught the not so subtle bits in the first scene, my explanation for how this would ever make sense is the spiders did it. I know it's a lazy plot device, but I stand by it hahahaha  
> But now the question is, what is our dear boy Jon going to do next hmmmm (and don't worry, next chapter is back to being stupid and fun. The angst will be to a minimum from here on out)


	15. Tim, We Need To Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A jar of worms, and a much needed conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the thing, we're getting near the home stretch of this particular fic, but I'm not sure I'm done with this AU yet. Would you guys be interested if I did some one shots or something for this AU after this is done? I've seen other writers do that with fics and I kinda like it. Let me know what you think, because I have some ideas in mind.

As Martin stood there he could see how his body trembled, and how when he finally spoke his words trembled right along with it.

"I...I, um...I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know th-that I missed nearly...nearly a whole week of work, but I swear I can explain. God, I'm sorry, I really messed up-"

Jon's body felt far off, so it nearly didn't register when he feet started moving.

"-didn't even get anything for the follow up, I feel so stupid. All of this and I still managed to turn up empty handed. I looked, I swear, I looked for something useful, but I couldn't find anything and then...and then I saw _her_ and I...I panicked, alright-"

He wasn't even completely sure of the words Martin was saying anymore, just that he was being drawn towards the sound of them.

"-and there were so many of them, and oh God the _sound_ they all made together, wriggling and squirming, and then the knocking on top of that, Christ why wouldn't she stop _knocking_ , I feel like I can still hear it-"

At first his steps had been slow, cautious, like if he moved too fast he might disappear again, but the more he recognized that he was really standing there, the faster his steps became.

"-doesn't make sense, someone else should have seen it, or heard it or _something_ , but it was like the whole place was just disserted, like I was the only person in the entire building, and I didn't know what to do, so I...I just did nothing...I didn't think there was anything I could do-"

Those few feet between them still felt like entirely too much space.

"-I promise, I'll make up for all the work I missed. I'll do overtime, I'll reorganize the archives for you, whatever you want, I promise, I'm sorr-OOF!"

Jon practically threw himself across the last bit of open space, colliding against Martin. He tossed his arms around his neck, leaning Martin down slightly, and standing on the balls of his feet to so he could hold onto him as tightly as he was able. On hand slipped up into Martin's hair, and the other had a white-knuckle grip on the back of his jacket. His face pressed into the space between Martin's neck and shoulder. Every movement was desperate to bring Martin closer, to make absolutely certain that he was ok, and that he was safe, and that he was finally, finally here.

Meanwhile, Martin appeared to have frozen in place. He stood there stiff and awkward, arms unmoving by his side, muscles taught, breath held.

The room was dead quiet.

"Um...Jon?" Martin bit out in a stage whisper voice, "Jon. Tim is...he can see-"

"Don't care." Jon mumbled into Martin's collar, tightening his arms around him even more.

There was another stretch of silence, but slowly, Jon felt Martin relax beneath his touch. He shoulders began to slouch, and he let himself be pulled forward so Jon could stand with he feel flat on the ground again. Finally Martin breathed a soft "Oh." and his arms lifted to wrap his arms around Jon. He gave in to the embrace completely, letting himself lean heavily against Jon, his face buried in his hair. 

Jon could feel how Martin's breath shook, and he knew his breathing was likely even less steady. He tried to fight back the tears that had welled up in his eyes, but a few still rolled down his face and onto Martin's shirt. If they spent the rest of their lives like that, Jon would not have complained.

He eventually did loosen his grip on Martin, just enough to lean back and look at him. The hand that had been laced into his hair slid down to rest at Martin's jaw, moving his head up so that their eyes met. Martin looked tired, and still very shaken, but the way he smiled at him made every last bit of worried that had clung in Jon's chest fell away in an instant.

"Hi." He whispered, thumb stroking Martin's cheek.

"Hi." Martin gave a small laugh, "Nice jumper."

He couldn't help but laugh back. Even at a time like this, Martin knew how to make him smile. "I might have borrowed a few of yours this week."

Their faces were so close. Just a few centimeters apart. There was so little space Jon need to close to kiss him.

Then Martin did a double take over Jon's shoulder. His gaze locked on the floor, and Jon noticed the tightness in Martin's muscles return, joined by a fierce blush across his face. 

"Uh, Jon...you should, um...behind you..."

Jon let go of his hold on Martin, and began to turn around cautiously. What he saw behind him was almost exactly what he was expecting.

There stood Tim. Eyes blown wide. Leaning against his desk slightly. One hand held a death grip on the edge of it. The other one firmly over his mouth. 

Slowly the hand over his mouth slid down his jaw. His mouth soundlessly flapped opened and shut a few times before he was finally able to get words out.

"...what the fuck is going on in here on this day."

It wasn't that he'd forgotten about Tim when he had got over to Martin, just that he hadn't really cared about him then. Martin was here and he was safe and that was all that had mattered. It had been too long of a week to bother trying to keep up the act for any longer than he already had. And now, because of that, they had some explaining to do to Tim.

"Tim, there's something that Martin and I need to talk to you about."

"You know, if this is the reaction we can expect from one of us disappearing for a week, then I might just have to go missing more often." The obvious attempt to appear collected undercut by a awkward laugh, and a slightly too high pitched voice.

"Please, Tim, I'm serious." He took a few deep breaths and searched for the right words. He'd hoped if the time did come that they told Tim, he'd have at least had the chance to prepare what he was going to say first, "What I'm trying to tell you is...you see...Martin and I are, um...the two of us, we're...we're...Martin what in the name of hell is on that desk?"

Jon's eyes had drifted down to the desk where Martin had dropped something when he had first burst into the room. He hadn't even looked at it before, but now he was reluctantly taking in every detail. It was a jar, the label of whatever it had once contained crudely torn off, and it's original content now replaced with a handful on convulsing, silvery _things_ , wriggling and sliding over each other. He could faintly hear the wet, squirming noise they made as they writhed around in their little mass. Even with the jar completely sealed and the whatever-they-were unlikely to make an escape, just looking at filled Jon with the overwhelming feeling of being unclean.

Martin cringed a little when he turned his attention to the jar, "Oh, um, those are, they're, um...worms?"

He turned to Martin, eyebrows pulled tight together, "Worms?"

"Th-the things that trapped me in that hotel room all week."

It dawned on Jon just how little he had been paying attention when Martin had shown up. His eyed went wide heart rate started to climb, "You were trapped by worms?!"

"Wait wait wait," Tim pushed himself off from the desk he had been leaning on and took a few strides towards them, "Am I just not getting my damn explanation now?"

"Later." Jon didn't even look at him, just raised a dismissive hand in his direction, "Trapped by WORMS?"

"Well, technically not just the worms." Martin paled slightly, "You remember, um, Jane Prentiss, from some of the statements? I think I might have found her. Or, at least what used to be her."

Leaning back against the desk slightly, Jon joined Tim in the confused stare they were giving Martin, "I'm sorry, what?"

Martin took a deep breath before the story began tumbling out of him, "Oh, so, went up to Vittery's old place, right? Well, didn't find anything we didn't already know, so I decided to do a bit more investigating, and yes Jon, by that I do mean I broke into the building, but we're not talking about that right now, so don't even start."

Jon had started to open his mouth to say something, but quickly snapped it shut again.

"Anyway," Martin continued, "When I had first got to there I had noticed one of the worms, and didn't really think much of it, but when I went down to the basement there were a whole lot more of them, and that was also where I found what I think was Jane Prentiss. Black matted hair, red dress, she fit the description, so I'm pretty sure it was her. I sort of freaked out when I saw her, because, you know, _she was full of worms_ , and so I ran, and then I kept running, and it was getting so late, and I was so tired, and then I saw this hotel. I don't know why I ever thought it was a good idea, but something in my brain just insisted that checking into a room would be so much better than making the trek back across the city to get home-"

"And she followed you there?" Jon reached out and grabbed Martin's hand, who gave a squeeze back.

"Yep, pretty much. I was setting settled in when I noticed a few worms in the room, and then the knocking started, and when I looked through the peephole, there she was. She just kept knocking and standing there for days, and I was just stuck there. At some point I had dropped my phone, and the one in the room wasn't working, so I couldn't even contact anyone. Finally she disappeared for a few hours today, so I took my chanced and blotted, and then I came here, and now here here are."

"Didn't anyone else notice?" Jon pulled Martin's hand up against his chest and wrapped his other hand around it.

At the same time Tim chimed in, "Wait, how did you not starve?"

"Both very good questions, and both have very weird answers." Martin sighed, "So, I have no proof of this, but I swear that the rest of the hotel was empty. I only saw the receptionist when I checked in, and then no one else besides Prentiss. I never saw anyone else in the halls, never heard anyone in any other rooms, no other guests, no other staff. Even when I left. I seriously think I was the only person in that hotel. As for the food question, I would guess whoever had been in the room before me left it, but there was food just, like, there in the minifridge."

"You ate random food you found in a hotel room?" Jon asked, sounding a bit disgusted.

Martin shot him a look, "Would you have preferred I starved in there?"

He dropped his head, but held a little tighter on Martin's hand, "...no."

There were a few beats after that where they all stood there, not speaking. Tim then broke the silence with a loud sigh.

"Ok, I know this is kind of a big deal, but it's also the end of the day on a Friday, and I know that we're all probably exhausted, so I vote that we put those worms somewhere safe, and deal with this on Monday. Sound like a plan?" He looked to Jon and Martin who both nodded their heads tiredly.

They placed the worms in Jon's office, wrapping the jar in a garbage bag to be safe. Before they could leave, though, Tim stepped in front of the door, cutting Jon and Martin off.

"Hey, don't think you two are getting off that easy. I still need my explication for," He gestured to where their hands were intertwined, "whatever this is. So, who's up for a drink?"

* * *

Jon was pleasantly surprised when, instead of dragging them back down to that pub again, Tim lead them to the café down the street from the institute. They settled into a quiet nook of the shop, away from other people, not wanting to risk anyone listening in too closely. The three of them had all searched the café for any familiar faces when they had entered, and then again when they sat down. They all knew this was going to be a conversation they didn't want heard by anyone else at the institute, so it was better safe than sorry.

"Right," Tim look a long sip from his decaf, "Obviously there is something going on between you two, because in the nearly three years I have known Jon I don't think I've even seen him willing touch someone for more than a handshake, let alone hug someone. And I have certainly never seen him hug someone like _that_. So what's the deal? Is Martin leaving his husband, or something? Oh my god, wait, Jon, are you Martin's mistress?"

"Why do people keep thinking I'm having an affair?" Martin muttered under his breath.

Jon's hands tightened around his cup of tea, "No, Tim, stop, that's not what this is. Now, I think it's obvious that Martin and I have not been entirely honest about our relationship. The thing is, Martin and I...we're um...we're..." The words stuck in his throat. Having gone unsaid for so long, they were now almost reluctant to come out. Then Jon felt a hand rest on his knee, and look to see Martin giving him a soft, reassuring smile, letting him know that it would be alright. With one last deep breath, and a final sweep of the surroundings, he ripped the bandage off.

"Martin and I are married. For very nearly two years, now. And we've been together since before I even started at the institute. But, yes, the point is, Martin and I are married."

"Oh." They watched as the emotions cycled across Tim's face while he processed the information, "Oh. _Oh_. Oh my god, I can't believe..."

"I know it's a lot to take in-"

"...That I missed this."

Martin startled, "What?"

"I mean, how did I seriously not figure this out by now? It all makes so much sense now." Tim had a wild look to him as he seem to be going over the facts in his head, "Like, Jon is normally a pretty weird dude, no offense-"

"It's not the first time I've been told that." Jon groaned.

"-But he'd been acting extra weird since we got moved to the archives, and especially with you, Martin. Then there was that whole ring thing, and all that sort of stuff that's been happening. And Martin, you keep doting on him even though you supposedly didn't know Jon. And...oh Jesus fucking Christ, Martin," His face feel into his hands, "You told me your husband was an accountant and I actually fell for it."

"In your defense, he is a very good liar." Martin perked up with a bit of pride from the comments.

"I just can't believe I missed all the clues that were right in front of me. Sasha and I were so convinced that Jon just had a massive crush or something...Hold on, does Sasha know about this?"

They both recoiled a bit at the questions. Never did they intend that this would impact anyone's relationships, but since Sasha had mentioned it, there had been a concern of her and Tim's friendship when I did find out. 

Eventually Jon responded with a cautious, "Yes."

Tim sat back for a few seconds, thinking about it. Then he nodded slightly and said, "Actually, yeah, that makes sense."

"What?" Jon and Martin blurted out in unison.

"She's got her whole crazy hacker genius thing going on." he shrugged, "I'm guessing she probably found your marriage certificate in government records, or something like that."

"...yeah, that's exactly what happened." Martin replied, Jon nodding his head beside him, avoiding eye contact. They both figured they could spare themselves the embarrassment of that story for now.

"So, um, you're alright? With all this?" Jon asked, "You seem to be handling it all very well."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm still freaking out inside." Tim grinned at them a bit too wide for it to be completely genuine, "I've already pinched myself twice. Probably going to text you tomorrow just to make absolute sure that this actually isn't a very weird dream. But I think I get. I know how nasty the institute is over 'employee fraternization' or whatever they call it. I'm assuming from what you said earlier that you're just trying to make the best of a shit situation."

"Yes, that's pretty much it." Martin huffed out a grim chuckle, "But, you're not upset that we've been keeping this from you?"

Tim's face scrunched as he pondered it, "A little bit, yeah. I do wish you told me sooner, sure, but I understand, it probably wasn't worth the risk, even with people you trust. But, if I'm being honest, that whole thing isn't what I'm most upset about."

Jon and Martin exchanged a confused look. "Um, what are you upset about, then?"

"You," With his usual teasing smile back on his face, he pointed an accusing finger at Jon, "Didn't invite me to your wedding."

"What?" Jon exclaimed.

"You didn't invite me to your goddamn wedding, Jon! I'm probably one of your closest friends, and you didn't even invite me."

"To be fair, we didn't really invite anyone." Martin offered, consolingly. 

"And I wouldn't have exactly been able to keep me and Martin inconspicuous if I had." Jon added, much less kindly.

"Jon, you never even told me you were married. Hell, I don't think you even ever mentioned to me that you were in a relationship!"

"You never asked me about it!"

"That isn't the kind of thing normal people go _three years_ without mentioning just because you weren't _asked_ about it!"

They bantered on like that for a while longer. Even with all the little jabs and insults being thrown back and forth, Jon felt better talking to Tim than he had in ages. It was lighter talking to him now, with none of those secrets weighing him down. 

* * *

Eventually they parted ways, Tim heading off and leaving Jon and Martin to make their way home. As soon as they had stepped outside the café, their hands were locked together, and their bodies were never more than a few centimeters apart. When they had been with Tim, there had been something to keep their minds off of everything that they had been through the past week, but as the time passed after they had left, the more those feelings washed over them once again.

The rest of the night Jon refused to leave Martin's side. All through the trip home, through dinner and dishes and sitting around, he stuck beside him. Through every apology uttered between them, through every tear that was shed, through every whispered word of comfort, they were together. It was as if they were making up for every touch in nearly a week of lost contact. When Saturday morning arrived, Jon couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up to Martin holding him so close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim canonically makes references, so I took that as an excuse to fit my favourite Alyssa Edwards meme in, and I stand by the decision.  
> And, for that "we didn't really invite anyone" comment, I very much imagine JMart would not be the kind of people to throw some big lavish wedding (maybe Martin might, I could see him going either way) so for the purposes of this AU, it was just them and the necessary witnesses (let's just go with Georgie her and some unnamed other person they know) when they got married


	16. A New Challenger Appears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The archival staff are actually communicating like normal people, and Elias is not pleased about this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bernie Sanders voice* I am once again asking for your acceptance that I didn't plan very far ahead when I started writing this so the plot is all kinds of weird now.  
> Seriously, I basically started writing this with just the main concept in mind, and then got a few chapters in and went "oh shit, I need to think of, like, a plot, and a conclusion" and I've basically just been making it up as I go since then.

Over the past couple of weeks Jon had noticed just how much the atmosphere of the archives had changed. Before it had seemed to cold and unwelcoming, like every eye in the place was locked on you, trying to pick apart ever flaw and secret you wanted to desperately to hide. There had been a tension that perpetually hung in the air, so thick and omnipresent that it had been suffocating at times. The institute had always been an unnerving place to, but nowhere had that been more obvious than when he had been moved to the archives.

Now, however, as he dropped the statement he'd just finished back on his desk, and heard the soft sound of laughter filtering in through his door, it reminded him of just how different it was. Sure they still dealt with some horrifying things working with the statements, but there was a lightness to the archives that hadn't been there before. There was a new sense of trust that had grown between him and his assistants since opening up to them that made all the terror that permeated every corner of the Magnus Institute a little easier to stand. When he had his assistants around him, it almost made the place feel comfortable. He dare might even say around them it felt safe.

Stepping out of his office, Jon took a moment to admire the scene in front of him. The three of them were all huddled around Martin's desk, talking and laughing, having fun. When they had all been transferred down to the archives, he had hoped that Martin, Sasha, and Tim would become friends like this, and it warmed his heart to see that it had actually happened. It also still baffled him a little to know that he was more than welcome in that little group as well. It was strange, but still very nice. It was good to have friends in a place like this, he decided.

As he approached the others, though, he did brace himself a little for what might follow. The closer he got, the more obvious it was that Martin was doing most of the talking, and he knew that meant that he was once again sharing stories about them. Jon didn't mind it overall, really. He was more than happy to tell Tim and Sasha about his and Martin's relationship now that he could. It was just that he was never sure what detail those two had dragged out of Martin this time. So far they had managed to find out about him tripping over a chair on his and Martin's first date, and exactly how frequently he "borrowed" Martin's jumpers, among a few other less than flattering things. 

He caught the last bits of whatever Martin had been saying.

"...nearly a month to get him to actually say more than two words to me. For a little while I was worried that he actually hated me, but then he warmed up to me, and he was very sweet after that. Well, I guess it's obvious that he warmed up to me eventually, you know, given..." Martin held up his had and gestured to the gold band on his ring finger. 

"So, what embarrassing things are we learning about me today?" Jon said as he joined the others

"Jon!" Tim whipped around to face Jon, looking utterly scandalized, "You were _actually_ rude to Martin when you first met? How could you?"

"In my defense, it was very early in the morning, and I was very tired." He felt his cheeks flare up with heat. He'd never been proud of how he had treated Martin when they first met, and he usually tried to just forget about it the best he could. He'd apologized to Martin countless times, and Martin had forgiven him, so he didn't feel the need to dwell on those first few encounters. 

"But Jon!" Moving behind the desk chair Martin was sitting in, Tim threw his arms around Martin's shoulders playfully, "He's such a sweetheart!"

His face burned a little hotter. He spoke just loud enough to be heard, "Well...I know that now."

Tim and Sasha started up chorus of nauseatingly sweet noises at him. Listening to his assistants inform him of how "adorable" he was was almost enough to make him miss the anxiety of trying to keep the secret from them. The fact that Martin had joined in laughing with them certainly wasn't helping, either.

"Really, Martin? You as well?"

"Hey, I'm allowed to think you're adorable. You signed up for this." Martin reached out for his hand and started pulling him in closer. 

"I'm not sure I really did." Despite the defiance in his voice, Jon went along willingly with the tug on his hand. He ended up directly in front of Martin, their knees bumping together. Martin looked up at him from where he sat, giving him that cheeky smile he knew made all of Jon's harsh edges go soft.

"Nope. You definitely did. If you didn't want me thinking you're adorable, you shouldn't have asked me to marry you."

Tim startled a little, looking at them curiously, "Whoa whoa, wait a minute, Jon was the one who proposed?"

"Is that really so hard to believe?"

Tim gave a shrug, considering his answer carefully, "I just always pictured Martin as they one who would have popped the question. No offense, Jon, but you don't exactly strike me as a romantic."

"I can be romantic!" Jon protested, his face scrunched in annoyance. 

"Oh really?" Tim's attitude shifted from careful to smug as he stared back at Jon, "What's the last romantic thing you did?"

Put on the spot like that, his mind went blank of anything he had done with Martin in months. "I...I, um...Martin?"

Martin was quiet for a few beats, appearing to be thinking about it. When he finally spoke, there didn't even seem to be an attempt to hide that the uncertainty in his voice was an act. "Jon, tell me, what are a few things you like about me?"

"Oh, well, um, let me see. You're very clever, that has always been something I admired about you. I don't think people always realize just how smart you are, because you don't go out of your way to prove it, like...well, like I _apparently_ do. You're so humble about it. You're humble about a lot of things. Frankly, I think a little too much sometimes." Jon was so lost in thought, he barely noticed as Martin tugged him down to sit sidesaddle in his lap and wrapped his arms around him. He seemed to be working on instinct alone when settled in against his husband, letting his arms drape around his neck to pull himself in closer. "You're also very handsome, of course. I noticed that about you pretty early on. And you're kind. That was probably actually the first thing I noticed about you. You were always so kind to me when we first met, even when I didn't exactly give you much of a reason to be. You're still so nice to me, and again, even when I probably don't deserve it. I know that I can be a bit difficult at times, and I'm not great about opening up to people, but you've always seemed so determined to care about me. It took me a little while to get used to it, honestly, but now I think it's the thing I love about you the most."

By the time Jon finished, Martin had turned a rosy shade of pink, and his eyes were soft as they admired the man in his arms, "Thank you, darling. I love you."

"I love you, too." Jon beamed back at him. Martin pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and Jon quickly turned his head and leaned back in to catch his lips. This kiss lingered slightly longer than the last, with Jon resting his hand against the side of Martin's face, and tiling his own head to deepen it a little more.

When the kiss eventually broke, Martin turned to Tim, the corners of his mouth drawn up in a satisfied grin, "Is that romantic enough for you?"

"Oh my god," Sasha laughed, her hands over her mouth, but her smile still bright in her eyes, "you two are just too sweet together."

"I'd say. Jesus, my teeth hurt after watching that." Tim made an attempt to sound put off about it, but the sappy smile on his face told a different story.

They stayed like that for a few minutes longer, their laughs echoing through the room. Even when they did all brake off to get back to work, that giddy feeling still hung in the air. It filled Jon's chest, making him feel warm and content as he settled back in his office, and set up for another statement. They still weren't fun to read, but they certainly felt easier to get through nowadays. 

* * *

"Peter!" Elias whined into his phones receiver, throwing himself dramatically into his lavish armchair, "It's not fair! It was such a good plan and now look what's happened. They're getting along! And acting all chummy with each other!"

There was a long pause on the other end before Peter finally responded in an uncertain tone, "...Alright? And?"

"And they're bonding Peter! They weren't supposed to bond over this!" He was aware that his behavior could be considered less than dignified, but by now Peter was used to his little outbursts. Peter often made a point of reminding Elias what a sore loser he could be. Not that Peter was any more gracious of a loser, or anything, but he just unfortunately got more opportunities to bring it up.

"I'm sorry, Elias, but I'm just not sure I'm seeing why this is such a problem." Peter was talking in that overly polite, placating voice that only worked to annoy Elias more.

"You know, I really thought _you_ of all people would understand, Peter." He did his best to sound as forlorn as possible, "Do you have any idea how hard it is to take advantage of people when they have people there to support them? They more they bond, they less I'm able to isolate them from each other, and the harder it will be for me to get any use out of them."

"Ah, yes, I see how that could be a probl-"

"I chose these four because I knew each of them had something I could exploit," Elias continued, cutting Peter off, "and if they go and become friends and start supporting each other and _caring_ about each other, it puts half of the plans I had for them in jeopardy. Plus, just to add insult to injury, I only managed to get a few measly months of fear out of them over this. It's pathetic! I'm devastated, Peter, devastated."

"Yes, I get it, this is probably all very disappointing for you." There seemed to be an actual attempt from Peter to sound sympathetic, though Elias suspected this was just an attempt to appease him, "I'm just not exactly sure what you except me to do about it? Do you want me to intervene? I can always send a bit of fog down there if you needed."

"Don't you dare get that fog anywhere near my statements. They're already in bad enough shape thanks to Gertrude's efforts. And I don't need you help, Peter. If I did I would have already asked for it. Is it really so much to ask to be able to vent about my problems? Does a man not have a right to complain?" His lamenting was met with an exasperated sound from Peter.

"Listen, I know you're upset, but whining about it like a child isn't going to do you any good." His voice sound almost gentle, despite what he was actually saying to him.

"And now what exactly do you suggest I do instead?" Elias spat back at him.

There was an audible groan that cut through the static of the call, "Elias, do I really need to remind you that you're a disciple of The Ceaseless Watcher? I suggest you watch them. If you want them to feel like they've got someone staring at them, then why don't you use those fancy little Eye powers of yours and actually do some of the work yourself, instead of just sitting back and hoping that something will happen?"

He sat there for a minute, trying to think of a good retort, but none came to him. He shut his eyes tight and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, trying to cope with the headache that was admitting defeat to Peter, "...Dammit, that's a good point. I do so hate it when you're right."

Elias didn't even need the powers of Beholding to be able to picture the smug grin he knew Peter had when he spoke, "Oh, come on, Elias. What would you ever do without me?"

"Probably spend significantly less time regretting my life choices, for starters. Remind me exactly again why I don't just talk to Simon about these things?"

"Well, the last time _I_ asked you why you don't do that, you told me that, and I quote," Peter cleared his throat and attempted the best impression of Elias he could, "'Peter, I would rather let you cast me into the Lonely and rot there then try to talk to that insufferable little man about my problems ever again.' So from that, I'm assuming I'm the lesser of the two evils here."

Elias really did hate it when Peter was right.

* * *

It was shaping up to be a pretty quite day in the archives. Research was going smoothly, all the statements Jon had gotten to today were recording to his laptop fine, no shelves had collapsed. Just an average, ordinary day at work.

Until Elias decided to make a surprise appearance. 

They had all been taking a short break from work, gathering in the assistants space as they often did now, when Elias stepped through the door to the archive. Elias tended to bring an air of anxiety where ever he went, but that had always been understandable. He was the head of the institute, the person signing their pay cheques, he was bound to make his employees feel a little on edge. Today, however, the feeling was almost oppressive. He shouldn't have been that intimidating of a man - average height, slim build, well groomed, a ever present atmosphere of professional courtesy surrounding him - but at times like this, it was hard to imagine anyone better able to strike fear into someone's heart with just a glance.

The room when quiet as he looked them over, "Well, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Suddenly feeling like a child caught doing something they shouldn't, Jon hesitated a moment before he spoke, "No, um, just taking a quick break."

"Oh, yes, of course. Always important to keep ourselves well rested, make sure we're in top shape. Just so long as it doesn't interfere with productivity." There was something venomous behind the cheery exterior Elias wore that Jon couldn't quite identify, "It's important work you all are doing down here. You know, this archive is really the heart of this institute, we'd be nothing without it. We're all relying on our little archival team. And especially so on our Head Archivist. It's a lot of responsibility, but I know how dedicated you are to your work, Jon, so I trust that it's nothing you can't handle." 

"Uh...yes, yes, of course." Jon breathed out, feeling the weight of Elias's word pressing on his chest almost as much that of his stare.

"That actually leads me nicely into what I came down here for. Like I mentioned, our archive is an indispensable part of this institute, and as you may have noticed it was left in a rather...unfortunate state after our last archivist...left us." Hints of displeasure showed through his attempt at a pleasant demeanor, subtly, but still certainly there. "Because of this, I've decided that I'm going to be keeping a closer eye on this department, at least in the short term. I'm certain you've been doing excellent work since you've all been here, but I just want to make sure everything is meeting the right standards. I'm going to try and drop by a little more often, see just how well you four are fairing. I assume this won't be any issue for any of you? Naturally I wouldn't want to be in the way of you or your assistants, Jon, so I do hope there won't be a problem with this." As he finished speaking, his eyes locked onto Jon.

The way Elias looked him, it wasn't even as if he was looking through Jon. It was like he was looking _into_ him. Like that cold stare could see him down to his very core, like he'd be able to describe his soul in excruciating detail. Like he could _see_ everything about him. He couldn't help but squirm under that scrutinizing gaze, hoping that if just kept his breath steady that his heart might stop pounding. There was something about the way Elias was looking at him that just felt _wrong_. Jon knew it sounded stupid, but he was almost certain Elias's eye look greener than they usually did. Had they always been that unnatural shade? He convinced himself it was just the awful florescent lights, throwing the colours off, but somehow that didn't make them any less unsettling.

"No...no, I don't see that being an issue." Jon's brain had gone onto autopilot, not even thinking of the words as he said them. All he knew was that it was what Elias probably wanted to hear. And it wasn't like he could stop him, anyway, he told himself, it was Elias's institute, he could do what he wanted with it.

"Perfect, I'm glad to hear it. So, I guess you can be expecting to see a bit more of me around here. I'll do my best to give you a heads up when I plan to stop by, but you know how schedules can be." He smiled at them, then turned to make his way back towards the door.

Elias paused after a few steps, however, looking at something on the floor. He made a short noise of disgust at whatever had caught his eye.

"I do ask that you be careful about letting things into the archives." The smile from before gone, his voice treaded the line between professional discipline and a bitter accusation, "The documents down here are quite delicate. I would prefer it if we didn't end up with an infestation."

Gracefully, he flicked the object of interest with the toe of his shoe, sending it in a low arc through the air. It landed a little further into the room, just beside Martin's desk. Martin tried to not jump too obviously when he recognized the writhing, silvery body of the worm on the floor next to him.

After one last glace around the room, lingering on each of the assistant, Elias locked eyes with Jon again. Another sickly sweet smile cut across his face, clearly artificial.

"Well, I'll let you all get back to work. Lots to do I'm sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely adore writing Elias as an over-dramatic, rich asshole. In my head both Peter and Elias are just insufferable middle aged white guys who grew up with more money then sense, and they ended up as two very different flavours of jackass, and I think it's great. They're the kind of people that you see them interacting and think "they deserve each other (derogatory)".


	17. So, What's the Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The archive crew have a few ideas about how to handle Elias hanging around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, some of the comments on the last one were just pure gold. The hatred some of you are having for Elias is EXACTLY what I'm going for here and I love it.  
> And apologies that this chapter took a little longer. I've been having a lovely mix of writers block, executive dysfunction, post-exam crashes, and migraines that decided to ~help me out~ with this one.

The sound of the TV was the only thing to be heard amongst the white noise of the building. It was turning out to be another one of those night, where there was clearly something on both of their minds, but they were both reluctant to say it. These night were becoming much too frequent for both Jon and Martin's liking. They had both improved with expressing their feelings to each other in the years they had been together, but they also both had many years of trying to just ignore the things that bothered them, and old habits often die hard. So they sat there, awkwardly, on either end of their old, grey couch, pretending like they were paying any attention at all to whatever rerun they had absentmindedly decided on. Any attempts at a casual conversation so far had largely fallen flat, and even their usual comfortable silence alluded them.

For the moment Elias had started describing his plan to "keep a closer eye" on the archive that afternoon, they knew they were in for another one of these evenings. It was as if they had gotten too comfortable with how things were, so life decided to throw a wrench in there, just to keep them on their toes. They had gotten a few weeks where things had actually been almost enjoyable down in that basement, and now it was over, and neither of them wanted to admit it.

Jon glanced over to where Martin was blankly starting at the TV. The space between them on the couch only seemed to amplify that uneasy feeling that sat in his gut. He knew that all he needed to do was bring up what had happened at work, and they could move on from this, but each time he tired to words seem to stick in his throat. Instead, he decided to try the next best thing to attempt to ease the tension, and scooched over to sit directly next to Martin. Their arms just barely touched, Jon not wanting to move to quickly, waiting to see how Martin would react first. At the first bit of contact Martin gave a small flinch, but then he exhaled and leaded in closer to Jon, placing an are around Jon's shoulders to hold him in close. They were both still reluctant to have this conversation, but at least they knew if would be a bit more comfortable having it like this.

"So," Jon began, his mind now settled enough to get the words out, "Elias."

"Fucking. Elias." Martin's head tipped back, the heel of his palm pressed to the middle of his forehead, "Just when we think 'oh, maybe this isn't that bad after all', here comes Mr. Bouchard himself to make absolute sure that yes, it is that bad."

Jon's face twisted up in loathsome agreement, "I've started wondering if he's doing it on purpose. I can't say exactly why, but I just get this feeling like he gets some kind of sick pleasure of watching us struggle."

"I get that feeling too. I think we all sort of know that Elias is, like, low key pretty creepy, but it has been so much worse lately." There was a hint of anxiety in his voice as he spoke, "Right from when he offered me this job, he's hit a whole new level of ominous. It almost feels like-"

"He knows something."

Martin's face dropped, and his body turned tense, "Yeah. Yeah, it does."

"...He...He would have done something by now if he did, though. Right?" Jon began to fiddle with his hair, a nervous habit he'd never been able to break, "He wouldn't just knowingly let us break one of the few rules he makes sure is actually enforced."

"Exactly. Yeah." Martin began nodding, "He wouldn't do that, would he. So we're probably fine."

"Yes, fine, we're fine." Jon gave a few awkward nods, himself. 

"We just need to be carful."

"Right. Yes, we just need to be carful." As Jon's voice trailed off, they went quiet again for a long moment, sitting nervously against each other. Then Jon slouched back a little further into Martin, tucking his face against his chest with a loud sigh, "Martin, I don't want to pretend to hate you again."

The stress of their first few months in the archives weighed down on Jon. Not only just the looming threat of being caught, but everything he had done to try and avoid it. It had seemed like a necessary evil back then, but since they'd stopped hiding their marriage from Tim and Sasha, he couldn't stand the idea of ever treating Martin like that again. Even though they both knew it was an act, and that he never meant any of it, all those rude, dismissive things he'd said had made him feel sick. He loved Martin, and he was tired of pretending like he didn't to other people.

Martin leaned his head on top of Jon's, and groaned, "I know. That wasn't exactly fun for either of us. I think it would probably be better for both of us if we avoided doing that."

"I just worry that I'm going to do something stupid and-"

"You're not going to do something stupid." Martin pulled Jon in a little closer, bringing his other arm to get him in a proper hug. Jon twisted into it, his chest now pressed flat to Martin's torso, his face still buried in Martin's jumper. 

"But what if I do." He mumbled into the knit. 

"Jon, you do know that you are capable of interacting with me in ways that aren't either 'hopelessly in love' or 'deep-seated hatred'. There is a lot of stuff in between those two for you to choose from." He teased, giving Jon a reassuring squeeze, " It's not like we have to act like we don't know each other anymore, we've been working together for months now, Elias is going to expect us to have some sort of working relationship. You can just treat me like a normal assistant, just like you treat Tim and Sasha. Just two normal coworkers, nothing special about us."

Jon slowly raised his head up to face Martin, a tight expression on his face, "That...makes a lot of sense. God, I feel like an idiot, now."

"No, you're not an idiot." Martin smiled down at him, then leaned in for a quick kiss, "You're just dramatic."

With a gasp, Jon placed his hands on Martin's chest to push himself out of the embrace. He rolled back to where he'd been sitting against Martin's side before, his arms now crossed and his lips pursed. He was clearly trying to appear more offended than he actually was by the jab at him. It was all rather dramatic, Martin thought, but he decided it was better to kept that to himself.

The arm that was still about Jon tightened, and another kiss was pressed into his hair. Jon's sour expression faded away as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a tentative smile. With most people, Jon usually found their teasing tiring, but Martin's actually seemed to lighten his mood. He wasn't sure if this was because Martin just knew him better than anyone else, or because he knew there was nothing but love behind Martin's teasing. Whatever it was, it had helped ease the anxious spiral in his head a little more. Of all the people he knew, he was thankful that it was Martin he was going through this with.

Jon settled back into the space at Martin's side, head resting on his shoulder, "So, we just act like...nothing is going on, then?"

"Pretty much. It's not like either of us are that big on PDAs most of the time, so that's not going to be a problem. We just keep it casual, like normal people working together."

"We can probably keep interactions to a minimum, as well." Jon suggested "It's not like Elias is down there to spy on us, or anything. He's down there to see us work, so if we just focus on work, we should be fine."

"Exactly. See, it shouldn't be too bad this time around. It's all going to be ok." Martin sounded as much like he was trying to convince himself with the sentiment as he was Jon.

* * *

Wine in hand, Tim rejoined Sasha in his living room. She shifted to take the glass he handed to her, carful not to tip over the bowl of popcorn on her lap. The movie they'd been watching had ended a half hour ago, the evening having moved on to their usual gossip and complaints about work. There was plenty of stuff that had happened since their last movie night to talk about. 

Sasha took a long sip of her drink before picking up where she'd left off when Tim had gone to the kitchen, "So, like I was saying, I did not have to deal with half of this bullshit when I was in artifacts storage, and trust me, there was some serious bullshit there." 

"God, I am not looking forward to Elias being in the archives more." He rolled his eye at the thought of it. 

"I know, right? That guy seriously gives me the creeps." 

"Seriously." After a second his brows pulled together, and he turned back to her looking slightly concerned, "Wait, Sasha, you don't mean he gives you the creeps like...I mean, he hasn't-"

"Oh, Jesus, no no no, Tim, nothing like that, no, ew! He's bad, but he's not _that_ kind of bad." Her whole body cringed, sending a shiver of disgust through her, "No, he's just spooky, thank god."

Tim breathed a sigh of relief, that glint of protective anger fading, "Ok, ok, just wanted to make sure."

There was a moment of awkward silence as they both tried to banish the idea of it from their minds. They then exchanged a look, and let out a few more disgusted sounds that shifted to a few uncomfortable laughs. 

Sasha patted Tim's knee as she continued, "Don't worry, Tim, you don't have to fight anyone on behalf of my honor or anything."

"Aw, what a shame." He shot her a disappointed look, prompting the laughing to start up again. 

They sat there laughing for another while, trying to not spill anything as their shoulders shook. They'd opted for Tim's apartment this Saturday night, since Sasha claimed that his was 'smaller, but still nicer", but unfortunately clutter was currently taking up most of what little table space he had in his living room. Neither of them minded much, but it did mean they had to be carful of where their food and drinks were going.

After a breath, Tim slumped back in his spot on the couch, "No, but you're right, the man has mastered that sinister aura of his. Did you see the way he was staring down Jon? If looks could kill."

"Honestly, I do not envy Jon that part of the Head Archivist job. The promotion would have been great, but I am honestly glad I don't have to deal with any extra scrutiny from Elias." Sasha had definitely been disappointed when Jon had gotten the job instead of her, but it was true that there were parts of it she wasn't almost thankful she'd gotten passed over. Gertrude had told that it wasn't an easy job, and watching Jon, that was very obviously true. Elias being down there wasn't going to make it any easier, either.

Thinking of the added surveillance Jon was going to be under, though, made something else pop into her mind, "Oh no...I just thought of something."

"What?"

"Jon and Martin."

The realization hit Tim. They'd both been so focused on all the ways Elias breathing down their necks was going to be awful for them, it hadn't occurred to him the other big problem that it was going to bring, " _Shit_. Didn't even think of that."

"The poor things." Sasha frowned sympathetically, "They just got comfortable around us and now...I can't even imagine what that's like."

"Probably a bit like going back in the closet when you visit shitty, bigoted family members." Tim mused. They both shuddered slightly at the memories of doing that.

"Ugh, yeah probably. Only that's usually over after a few days at most. We have no idea how long Elias plans on haunting the archives for." She took another sip of her wine, her eyes focused on the ground as she pondered the issue, "Do you think they're going to go back to the same thing they had going before?"

"I mean, probably. Man, this is going to suck." He ran his hands through his hair, tipping his head back as he sighed.

"At least we're in on it this time."

Looking back to Sasha, he raised an eyebrow curiously, "What exactly do you mean by in on it?"

"Well, yeah, we know what's actually going on between them, now, and we know what their whole act is. So, this time around, we can help them with it." He kept looking as her with that face of mild confusion, urging her to elaborate a bit more, "Tim, they are our friends, we're not just going to sit back and let them struggle on their own. It's not like we have to go out of our way to do anything, just play along with it and back them up if they need it."

Tim sat up a little straighter, considering what she's said with a few nods, "That's actually a really smart idea. Yeah, we can help them with this now, this is great. It's still going to suck for them to have to do that, but it should suck a little less with a bit of back up." He huffed out a short chuckle "It is a shame that they're going to go back to acting like they don't know each other, again. It's actually been fun in that damn basement since they came clean to us."

Sasha shot him an exaggerated pout, "Aw, is someone going to miss those two acting all lovey-dovey at work?"

"Absolutely not. If anything I'm just going to miss Jon acting like a person for once." Tim shook his head, finishing off the last of his glass before he continued, "God, I know it's bad, but sometimes I honestly can't believe that he's been in a relationship the entire time. Like, _he's_ _married_. Jon. Our Jon. The same Jon that once actually said to me that 'small talk is nothing but a waste of breath'. He's great, he's my good friend, love the guy, sure, but _how the hell_ did he manage to settle down before I did."

A wide, contemplative grin twisted across her face, almost as overly sardonic has her voice "Well, you know, maybe if you didn't chicken out of every potential relationship after the first date, you'd have better luck."

There was a long moment of silence as Tim sat there, breathlessly stunned, hand pressed over his chest, before he finally choked out a few broken laughs, "Fucking hell, Sasha. If I wanted to be roasted for commitment issues like that, I would just go to a therapist."

Sasha seemed quite pleased with herself, letting out a few quite giggles as she downed the last of her wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going back through old chapters to double check things I'd written, and I realized that my bit where Jon gushed about Martin last chapter is almost the exact same of what I wrote Martin saying about Jon in chapter 6. Including Sasha's reaction. Good job me. Maybe this will teach me to reread my writing and not just post it and forget about it until I need it again hahaha


	18. A Watchful Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elias visits the archives. The archive staff hate it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, hit a rough patch with the last chapter, but I think I got my mojo back, y'all. Fingers crossed I manage to avoid writers block for the next few weeks. We've only got a few chapters left, let's fucking do this hahaha  
> So today, I offer you four idiots trying to keep a secret form an avatar of The Eye. Enjoy.

It was Wednesday afternoon when they first heard footsteps echoing through the archives. Elias, as he said he might, had arrived without any notice, letting himself in to start wandering the basement. The assistants could all hear with startling clarity as his shoes clicked up an down the halls, and the doors that opened and shut as he moved between different storage rooms. He hadn't even shown his face yet, and they were all disturbingly aware of his presence.

Martin looked down to the box of documents sitting beside his desk. Jon had asked him to file them away, and he had planned on doing it, but once Elias had arrived he felt like he was nailed to his chair. He knew he needed to get it done, he just couldn't convince himself to stand up to do it. The thought of running into Elias kept him frozen where he was.

But he had to get it done. He said he would, so he couldn't just not do it. He waited, listening closely to the hall for a few minutes. No footsteps, no doors. Nothing. Martin felt his muscles relax a little, seeming to be more willing to move now. With a deep breath he pushed himself up from his desk, grabbing the box, and heading off to document storage. 

He checked around him as he moved through the archives, making sure the coast was clear. No sign of Elias anywhere. He breathed a sigh of relief. It made sense, Elias was the head of the institute, he was bound to be busy, he couldn't spend his whole day wandering the archives. They'd been listening to him down there for a good twenty minutes, he probably had to get back to his other work. Whatever got him out of the archives, Martin was fine with.

He got to work getting the files back into their appropriate places. It wasn't the most interesting work by most peoples standards, but he didn't mind it much. Something about it was almost relaxing about the monotony of it. Organizing things and finding where they fit, it was almost like a puzzle to him. It was something he could let himself get lost in, the singlemindedness of the task making everything else around him quieter. 

"Ah, Martin." A voice cut through his concentration, making him jump, "I was hoping to run into you."

"Elia...I, uh, M-Mr. Bouchard, hi, hello."

He patted a hand against Martin's arm, "Oh, please, you can call me Elias, it's perfectly fine. I was just stopping by to see how you're fairing. Check on how you've adjusted to the new job."

Martin's eyes darted around the room, trying to figure out where exactly Elias had come from. He could have sworn the door hadn't opened, and he hadn't heard the footsteps.

_Was he waiting in here for me!?_

"I, um, it's been great so far. Yeah, great. Um..." Martin could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Whether is was from being snuck up on, or the usual anxiety he got around Elias, though, he couldn't tell, "Was there...anything you needed?"

There was a low, amused sound from Elias. He wore a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "No, I don't need anything from you at the moment. Honestly, I just wanted to know you've been finding working down here. You four are just as important a part of the archives as the documents we keep, so if I'm to be making sure the archives are in order, I might as well be making sure my staff is as well."

"O...kay." Martin stammered, "Well, um, what kind of things would you like to know? Was there anything in particular?"

Elias stopped to think about it for a moment with a hum, his eyes drifting around the room when he spoke, "Tell me, how are you finding your new coworkers? No major problems, I hope."

"No no, no problems so far." Martin cleared his throat, hoping to get the rest of his words too come out a less squeak, "Tim and Sasha have actually been great to work with. We got along really well, we work well together. Yeah, um, it's been good."

The other man nodded, considering the answer, his gaze still moving around the room aimlessly, "That's good to hear. And Jon?"

Martin's chest tightened, "What about Jon?"

"Well, it's just that you only mentioned how you were doing with Tim and Sasha. How are you finding working with Jon? Has he been an agreeable boss, at least?"

_Deep breath_

_This isn't the first time you've lied to him_

_It's fine_

"Oh, um yes, agreeable, for sure." Martin sputtered out gracelessly, "He's been a fine boss. Keeps us busy and all that. He, um...he's fine, yeah, no complaints."

Elias gave another nod, and brought his gaze to meet Martin's. Martin suddenly found it very hard to breath.

"I'm glad. It's good that you're all doing well together. I knew I made the right choice with you four." He gave Martin another one of those cold smiles, before glancing down at his watch, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some other work that I must be attending to. Thank you for you time, Martin, you've been a great help."

He stepped around Martin without another word, making his way out of the room. Martin watched him as he left, still unable to shake that nervous buzz that went through him whenever Elias was around.

"Um...you're welcome."

* * *

The next time Elias made an appearance, Tim and Sasha were alone in the office. Jon and Martin had snuck off to lunch, Martin dragging Jon out of his office to go to the nearby café, so it was just Tim and Sasha left when he arrived. Once again, he arrived unannounced, nearly giving the two archival assistants heart attacks when he came through the door. 

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything." Elias said with a grin, regarding the two of them as they tried to get their heartrate back under control, "I was looking to speak to you both."

They exchanged a quick, nervous glace, waiting to see who would speak first.

"No, not interrupting." Tim began in an uncertain voice, "Uh, Elias, you know that Jon-"

"Oh, excellent." Elias cut him off, apparently not interested in the rest of the answer, "I was just hoping to discuss how you have been finding it working in the archives. Particularly, I was looking to hear about how we've been doing interpersonally. We're looking to make sure this archive is working like a well oil machine, so I just want to make sure that all our gears are lining up properly." 

They could tell form the way he look at them that there was something he wanted to find out, but he also wasn't going to be direct about it. He was just going to stand there and let them flounder while they tried to find the right thing to say. It felt disturbingly like they were back in high school, trying to give a presentation they did not prepare nearly enough for while their teacher stared them down.

"It's been...good." Sasha offered.

"Yeah good." Tim confirmed.

Elias gave an acknowledging hum, "Yes...good. You've worked together before, of course, so obviously you already knew you'd work well together."

Squaring his shoulders, Tim did his best to turn his charm back on, "Oh, for sure, we work great together. Tim and Sasha, the dynamic research du-"

"And how about Jon?" Elias interrupted him again, "You both worked with him before, as well, but how has he been as a boss?"

"Jon? Well, you know, he's Jon. Been bossing us around since before he was even properly our boss." The attempt at teasing was met with Elias's well practiced steely gaze. It wasn't often Tim found it so hard to keep his composure, but he felt ready to collapse with the way Elias looked at him. He cleared his throat, and opted against anymore jokes, "He, uh, he's good. As a boss that is. Fair, and all that. Efficient"

There was another smirk from Elias at that. "Wonderful. I knew I made the right choice with him." For just a moment, he locked eyes with Sasha, and she couldn't help but shrink a little, "Martin is the only who hasn't worked with the rest of you before, correct?"

"No, none of us had worked with him before this." The air in the room felt uncomfortably dry, making it hard for Tim to talk, "But he's great. Sweet guy, does good work. Very dedicated."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that." His voice was sickly sweet as he spoke, "Now, I was looking to speak to Jon as well. Would you mind telling me where I would find him?"

"Um..." Tim shared another worried look with Sasha, "Jon's not here right now, actually."

"Oh?" Elias shot them a curious glance, "And where exactly is he?"

He tried to respond, but he hesitated, the words catching in his throat. Luckily Sasha spoke up to answer, "He forgot his lunch today. Had to go buy something. He's just down the street, should be back shortly."

"Ah, yes, that makes sense." Elias smiled, nodding his head. He then gave the room a quick once-over, "And Martin? I see he is absent at the moment as well."

"Follow up." Tim blurted out, a bit too loud, "He, uh, he's out doing some follow up research, right now."

"Yes, follow up research." Sasha agreed enthusiastically, "That is where Martin is right now. I don't think he had far to go, so he should be back before the end of the day."

"I see." Elias's gaze moved between them, focusing on each for only a beat. After a few seconds his eyes drifted away from them and returned to inspecting the room as he began to pace around it, "Tell me, how are those two working together so far. I know neither of you have had problems with either of them individually, but has there been any issues between them?"

There was a long pause after the question. They had planned to help out with Jon and Martin's act when Elias was around, but now that it came time to do it they couldn't even bring themselves to speak. Maybe it was because they didn't have the other two there with them, or maybe they just hadn't prepared themselves to answer such a direct question, but whatever it was, all they could do was look at each other and hope one of them would bring themselves to answer the question.

The silence didn't go unnoticed. Elias glanced back over his shoulder, then continued to survey the room, "If there are any problems between my staff I should know about, I do expect you to inform me of them. I need to know if there is anything that might be impacting our working environment, especially in a department as important as this one."

Turning to Tim again, he gave a reassuring nod, and after a deep breath, Sasha answered in as level a voice as she could, "It's really nothing you need to be concerned about, Elias. It hasn't been effecting our work, or anything like that. Just a bit of difference of personalities, is all."

"Yeah, it's nothing to worry about," Tim added, following Sasha's lead, "They butt heads every once and a while, there's the occasional harsh comment over a report or something, but it's really no a big deal. Maybe they're not going to be out in the pub together after work, but so long as it's not getting in the way of other stuff, right?"

"Exactly. Like I said, it really hasn't been effecting any of us doing our work. We all get what we need to get done done, and I think you'll find we've been doing it all quite well so far. They aren't going to be friends, but I don't think you need to be friends with all your coworkers. As long as you can work together and be civil, I don't think it's an issue." 

Elias came to a stop near the door. Even without him looking directly at them, they had the strangest sensation that he was still staring them down. When he did turn back to them, however, there was something almost amused about his expression. He was trying to hide it, based on the thoughtful scowl he wore, but there was a satisficed glint in his eye.

"Well, this is certainly something to keep in mind. Thank you both for you honesty on the situation. You've been a great help. I think I have now taken up quite enough of your time, so I'll let you two get back to work."

And with that, he stepped out the door, leaving Tim and Sasha alone once again.

* * *

Jon was just stepping out of his office when Elias visited next. Nearly a full week after he'd last been in, he stepped through the door to the assistants space, unannounced as always. He regarded Jon with a pleased look.

"Jon, perfect, just the man I was hoping to see."

"Elias." Jon focused on keeping himself composed, "Was there something you needed to discuss with me?"

"Yes, there was. Don't worry, it's nothing too serious." He stepped closer, now only a few steps away from Jon, who could help but notice that Elias now stood directly in his path to the door. 

"Alright. We can just step into my offi-"

"Oh, no, that's not necessary." Elias waved a hand at him, stopping him before he even reach the handle on his office door, "I don't want to keep you long, and this should be quick anyway. I just wanted to have a little chat about how you're finding the new job."

Jon looked at Elias, and then passed him to where his assistants were sitting. They all looked as awkward with the arising situation as he felt. They at least had the benefit of having Elias's back to them. Jon, on the other hand, was standing where every eye in the room could be on him at one. Even with all of them pointedly focused on their computer screens and case files, he still felt incredibly exposed. He tried to swallow down the feeling, determined to stay levelheaded through this.

He cleared his throat, and slipped back into that studious persona put on for the tapes, "Right. Of course. So what exactly would you like to know? Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about?"

"Let's just start with how you feel you've adjusted so far. How are you finding the position? Managing with the responsibility and all that."

His hands laced together behind his back, to stop him from fidgeting noticeably. Elias just wanted to see how he was doing, he couldn't understand why it was making his chest feel so tight. 

"I feel I have adjusted well so far." Jon answered with faux confidence, "Certainly a change of pace from what I was used to, but I can assure you it's nothing I can't handle."

"Yes, I trust that you're more than able to meet the demands of the job." Though he sounded sure, his body langue just read as disinterested, his view fixing on a spot of lint in his blazar, "And how are you finding your assistants? Has everything been alright with the new team?"

If it had felt as though he was being watched before, this felt downright voyeuristic. He was being asked to talk about his assistants, directly in front of them, by his boss, who he had a feeling would not settle for some hand wave of an answer. The three of them were all visibly more tense than before, and clearly trying to pretend as if they were completely unaware what was happening past the papers in front of them.

"Um, well," Jon tightened his hands behind his back, the bones of his fingers sore where they pressed against each other. He stood up a little taller, rolling his shoulders back, trying to look sure despite the nerves "Yes. Yes, Everything had been perfectly fine with the team. I think we've all done well together over the past few months. Their work has been consistently satisfactory. I don't have any complaints about them as of yet."

Elias raised an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

Jon's chest grew tighter, "I, uh...yes?"

"Interesting." There was a pause, just for a second, but to Jon it felt like a lifetime, "It's just that I had heard a few...contradicting accounts on the subject."

All three of the assistants heads flew up from where they had been focused on their desks. Nervous looks shot over to Jon and Elias, and then began to frantically shift between each other. The background radiation of anxiety that had filled the room before now turned to full-blown, soundless panic behind Elias's back.

If Jon's chest had felt any heavier he would have been worried he was actually having a heart attack.

"You...uh...w-what exactly have you heard?"

"Well, you see," Elias spoke slowly, choosing his words with great care, "I've heard some of your assistants have said that everything has been working out fine, but others have reported some...high tensions between you and...well, let's not beat around the bush here, between you and Martin."

It felt as through the air had all been sucked out of the room. Jon's whole body tensed so completely he was worried if someone were to shove him right now, he would simply tip over like a statue. 

With Elias still appearing largely unfocused on him, Jon risked an alarmed look over to Martin. Martin was looking back at him, shaking his head adamantly and mouthing out the words "It wasn't me". Jon then turned his eyes to Tim, who had turned a deep scarlet, and Sasha, who was clutching at the sides of her head. 

_Oh no_

"Ah...um...hmm..." Jon gave a stiff nod of his head, "That's, uh, that's strange."

"Yes, quite."

Jon could see as Tim and Martin gestured wildly to each other in a silent argument. He wasn't certain, but he was pretty sure he saw Martin mouth out "What the fuck did you do?" to Tim more than once.

"Yes, well-"

"I did hope that you'd be able to offer some... _clarification_ to the situation." Elias sneered, his eye now once again focused on Jon.

Sasha appeared to have joined in with the mimed screaming match. Her gestures look a bit more apologetic than the others, but no less confused or hectic.

Shutting his eyes for a second, Jon pulled himself back under control. He knew the best thing he could do for this situation was keep his emotions in check, and if there was one thing he'd become good at over the years, it was masking his emotions. He let those familiar old walls close around the panic bubbling in his brain, filling it's place with that prickly, cold attitude he'd worked so hard to master over the years.

"Well, I will admit, there were some issues in the beginning." His voice sounded like it often did when he would give the notes for statements on records, low and detached, "However, I feel that we have since made great progress in working through those issues. I would like to believe that all of our working relationships are at least somewhat amiable at this stage. At the very least there isn't anything impeding our ability to work."

Locking eyes with him, Elias considered this for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder at the other three, who all simultaneously snapped back to pretending like they were working. He turned back to Jon, a fridge smile now on his face.

"I understand. I'm glad we were able to clear things up on that. Wouldn't want any sort of interpersonal drama effecting our work." It took everything in Jon to not flinch as Elias clapped his shoulder, "It's good to know that everything is going well down here. Now, I think I've bothered you quite enough for today, and I really should get back to work myself, so I shall take my leave."

The four of them watched as Elias walked out of the room. Though he had left, that tension he often brought with him still hung thick in the air, making the lot of them unsure about letting their guard slip just yet. A room full of smiles painted onto anxiety ridden faces, nothing said yet for fear of it reaching the wrong ears. After nearly a minute of watching the door, the three assistants turned to face Jon once again.

"I think I need to speak with you." He breathed out in a clipped voice, "All three of you. In my office. Now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have now twice written about Martin enjoying doing the hands on stuff with organizing the archives and it is 1000% because I missing working the stock room at my old job. Like I despised working retail, and I'm glad I don't have to work there every again, but god damn I loved restocking and organizing the back, it was so satisfying.


	19. Some Much Needed Clarification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The archive crew have a discussion in that aftermath of Elias's latest visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much for me keeping my mojo going hahaha (but I did write a chapter for the one shot comp I have going that's in the same AU as this fic, so maybe check it out if you're interested)  
> I'm going to lead into this chapter by stating how I picture the heights of the archive crew. I basically picture it with Martin as the tallest (6'2"); then Sasha (6'); then Tim (5'10"-5'11"?); and finally Jon (5'5", maybe a bit taller). I would also like to acknowledge that I call Jon a tiny man even though I picture him as being the same height I am lol. But yeah, the assistants are all very tall and tower over their boss, because I just think that's great. It's not actually that relevant, but I felt the need to share it hahaha.

Jon positioned himself in his office chair as authoritatively as he could. The other three were crowded around the opposite side of the desk. There was only one other chair in the office, usually for when Jon had to take live statements, or if he ever had to meet with one of them, but it meant that when all three of the assistants were in there, it left them little choice but to stand there. Jon, however, situated himself in his chair, in part to make himself feel more official, and in part because he could not be bothered to stand after that frankly exhausting conversation with Elias.

Besides, if his assistants were going to tower over him, he might as well be sitting down for it.

"So," He breathed out in a dry voice, "Would someone like to explain what just happened back there?"

"Well _I_ certainly wasn't the one who told Elias we were having problems." Martin snapped, smiling bitterly over at Tim and Sasha on his left.

Jon shifted his gaze to where those two were standing, still looking embarrassed, "And what do you two have to say for yourselves?"

"In our defense," Sasha started, sounding assured but still refusing to look at him, "You never told us that you were changing your plan. We figured you were going to keep going with your whole hating each other thing and you never told us anything different, so I'm not exactly sure what you expected us to do."

This time it was Martin's turn to go cherry red. Jon and him exchanged a look, and they realized that Sasha actually had a very good point. Come to think of it, they actually hadn't talked to either of the others about their plan for how to handle Elias. It might have just seemed so obvious to them, or maybe they were so used to keeping secrets at this point. Whatever the reason, Jon realized that he may have been more at fault in this situation than he expected.

"Ah. I see. That's, um, that's fair actually." Tim and Sasha both looked a little more pleased with themselves. Something was still gnawing at Jon's mind, though, "Wait, one more thing; how exactly did Elias get this information?"

The three assistants fell back into their uneasy silence. 

"Have you all already spoken to Elias?"

"Sasha and I, uh..." Tim began cautiously, "about a week ago. You were out at lunch."

"He cornered me in document storage. A bit before he got to Tim and Sasha, I think." Martin added.

Steepling his fingers in front of his face, Jon gave himself a moment, worried that if he spoke too soon he'd say something he would regret, "So you're telling me you've all had some kind of meeting with Elias. Where he apparently asked about me. And no one thought to tell me about it?"

Though he did his best to sound calm, frustration could still be heard when he spoke. He could even begin to fathom why they would keep something like this from him. On top of the fact that it posed a massive risk to his continued employment and sanity, there was also simply the fact that there was protocol that should have been followed. He appreciated how close he was with everyone in the archive now, but that didn't change the fact that he was still technically in charge here. Not only had Elias apparently gone behind his back to have these secret meetings, his assistants hadn't even stopped to tell him about them.

Martin was the first to speak, "I-I think it just...slipped our minds."

"Yeah, I think I kind of figured..." Tim shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged, "Well I figured that you already knew."

"Did Elias not tell you that he was going to talk to us?" Sasha finally looked up at him, confusion filling her eyes.

"No, he did not." The frustration from before now steadily being replaced with suspicion in Jon's voice, "Frankly, this is the first time I've actually spoken to him since he told us he was going to be down here more often."

None of the assistants responded to this, instead just looking at him with concern. Something unsettling began to fill the room, something not quite right. It was certainly irritating that none of his assistants had thought to tell their boss (or their husband, for that matter) about these unscheduled meetings with Elias, but there was something even more strange about the fact that Elias had apparently gone completely behind his back for them. Like they had told him, Elias spoken to Tim and Sasha when he hadn't even been there, and apparently just cornered Martin to get to him. It was Elias's institute, sure, but something about this felt wrong. 

"This is...bad." Jon ran a hand through his hair, as if it would smooth out his increasingly worried thoughts, "This is bad."

"Do you think he..."

"I really have no idea. But I don't think we can afford to take any risks here." The others all nodded to this, "I think the first thing that needs to be done is to actually get our story straight."

"We should probably go with what you just told Elias." suggested Sasha, "Makes the most sense to keep using that."

"Plus it was pretty convincing, if you ask me." Martin said encouragingly, not quite hiding that he was impressed by this.

Jon was thankful he didn't blush very visibly, "Alright then, we'll go with that. Martin and I had issues in the past, but we now worked through the majority of them. Tim, Sasha, lets say that you two weren't totally aware of these developments because...I don't know, we met privately to discuss them. Now we're all completely normal coworkers, nothing special about us. We all just have average working relationships, no more no less." The assistants gave another nod. "Good, that's settled then. Maybe if we're lucky, which I must admit I very much doubt we are, Elias is done with assessing our 'interpersonal dynamics' and this won't come up again. Now, there's one other things I want to clear up."

This got a few eyebrow raises from them. Jon met their curious looks with his serious one.

"I don't think we can afford to keep secrets anymore. Not from each other at least. There's...something going on here. Something bad. Apart from whatever the hell is going on with Elias, we have the whole Prentiss situation to worry about. I think it will be in all of our best interest if we're honest with each other. Miscommunication and misunderstandings could land all of us in a lot of trouble right now, so we need to avoid them. We need to work together, tell each other things, trust each other." He stopped for a breath, trying to figure out what the others were thinking from blank body language, "I understand that this might sound, well, a little hypocritical coming from me, given my track record with communication, but I hope you'll agree that it will be worth our while to try and remain transparent with each other here. There's something about this, about that place that...I just think it's a good idea to have people you can trust here."

He wait for a response, watching as they all look from him to each other and back to him. Then they all began to nod their heads in agreement again, and their faces shifted to something a bit more confident.

"Sounds like a plan." Sasha said with a grin. They all shared a few smiles in silent agreement. 

"I think that pretty much settles it, then." Jon checked his watch, cringing internally at how much time had passes, "Well, we should probably all get back to work. Don't want to waste the whole afternoon on this."

Tim and Sasha exchanged another glance to each other before filing out of the room. Martin, however, hung back, rocking on the balls of his feet, watching as the door shut behind the others. He looked over to Jon, a little hesitant, but like he wanted to say something.

"Martin? Is there something you wanted to talk about?"

He gave another look to the door, making sure it was shut, then took a few steps closer to the other side of the desk. "Are you...ok?"

Jon took a look at the door himself. The hint of paranoia that someone might open it any second was too strong to ignore completely.

"I'm fine, Martin."

This answer got an eyeroll in response, "Come on, Jon. I know how awful talking to Elias like that is, and the way you looked, you...it-it didn't look fun."

Martin was looking down at him with that soft, empathetic expression that made Jon's heart melt. He was still scared of someone walking in, for sure, but in the moment he found it hard to care.

"I, uh...I'm...yeah..." He had never been good at talking about how he felt, but Martin still understood. Without another word, Martin moved to stand beside him, and just held his arms open. Jon paused for only a second before he stood and stepped into the offered embrace. He savored the feeling Martin pulling him in tight to his chest, and the kiss pressed into his hair.

He felt as a low chuckle shook through Martin, "So, should I get back to work now?"

Jon nudged his face a little farther into Martin's shirt, "In a minute."

* * *

Even before stepping through the heavy wooden doors he could feel that chilling hum of the Lonely that filled his office. Just as planned, Peter was already waiting there for him, looking only slightly more put out than usual.

"I see you finally decided to show up." Peter huffed as Elias positioned himself across from him, "I brought those-"

"You should have seen them, Peter, it was simple incredible. For a second there I though he might actually cry. I don't think I can even describe the way his face looked. Part of me almost felt back for him, but oh how could I when the fear was just so _delicious_." 

"..financial documents you asked for-"

"And the assistants, thinking they were being subtle, it was just lovely. So much panic in one room, and I hardly even needed to do anything." His voice was nearly as giddy as his face was, as he stared off wistfully, " I'm really quite proud of myself. You know, I've gotten so used to sitting back and watching them all from here, I nearly forgot how good it feels to do the watching up close and personal. Not that I don't still love that ever present dread of being watched that I have spent so long crafting here, but it's good to go back to basics sometimes." 

Dropping the stack of papers on the desk, Peter brought his hands up to rub at his temples, "You didn't actually bring me here to talk about finances, did you?"

Elias turned to him with an exacerbated look, "Oh really, Peter, you should know this by now. When have I even asked you here to talk about finances where we actually ended up talking about finances?"

"...fair enough." Peter sighed, "So what exactly is this about?"

"You remember how I decided to take matters into my own hand with the archival staff situation?" There was an exhausted sound from Peter, "Well, I've been down there, watching them, asking questions, really putting the fear of beholding into them. I went after my Archivist today, hit him with some of the things I've gathered from his assistants, it was all very good fun."

Peter held up a hand to stop Elias's rambling, "Wait, hold on a minute. Elias, have you been compelling your staff?"

"No, no, haven't bothered with any of that," He drawled, waving a hand dismissively at Peter, "It's more fun watching them scramble around trying to lie, anyway. I'm going to avoid compelling them until I'm done having my fun with them."

"You sure The Hunt hasn't gotten it's teeth in you." Peter teased, "You look like a cat stalking it's prey when you talk about your little archival crew."

"Please, like I'd align myself with something as brutish as The Hunt." His face twisted up, repulsed by the idea of it. "Besides, I hardly think you're the one to be talking to me about acting...unbefittingly for our patrons."

"Do I need to remind your that you're the one who asked me to come here?" 

"You are under no obligation to agree to those requests."

"I'd be carful telling me that, I'm liable to not show up next time." 

"But you will. As you always do." Elias glared at him with a condescending sneer. Peter simply questioned why he'd even allowed himself to get involved with this headache of a man.

* * *

_There is nothing wrong with us leaving the institute together_

_Tim and Sasha walk out together almost every day, it's not suspicious_

_Sometimes you and your coworker just happen to leave at the time time_

_People do it all the time_

_Hell, you've done it before_

_It's fine_

_Completely fine_

Despite Jon's internal monologue, he still asked Tim and Sasha to send an all clear text when they went through the lobby of the institute. It should have been such a simple thing. All he was trying to do was leave work. And it just made sense to leave at the same time as Martin. He wasn't working late, and they were going to the same place, it made sense. But still he felt as though if the wrong person saw they together they would somehow just _know_. 

His phone buzzed, and he looked to find a message from Tim of a thumbs-up emoji. With one last deep breath, he walked out of his office.

"Ready to go?" He asked Martin with halfhearted cheeriness.

Gathering up with stuff, Martin smiled back, "I'm all set. Let's get out of here."

They made their way out of the archives and up the stairs to the main floor. When it did appeared that the coast was clear, Jon breathed a quite sigh of relief. Feeling a little brave, Jon decided to break the silence they had been in since leaving the offices. Besides, he assured himself, it was normal for people to have conversations when they walked together. Small talk and all that.

"So," Martin startled ever so slightly at the sound, "How was your day?"

Looking a bit surprised it was apparent Martin had not expected them to say anything quite yet, but he still joined along, "Oh, you know, nothing too exciting. Did some filing, investigated some supernatural horrors, just the usual."

Jon couldn't help but let out a small laugh, though he tried to keep the affection the glowed in his chest off his face best he could. "A regular day at the office then?"

"I guess so," Martin chuckled, "And you? How was your day?"

Jon gave a tired huff, "Well, I think you might already know that answer to that."

Martin cringed at the comment, "Oh, right. _That_."

"Yes, _that_." He nodded solemnly, "I just hope that he's done with the whole interpersonal investigation now. God, would it be so much to ask maybe, just maybe I could catch a break for once in my li-"

"Jon!"

They both jumped at the sudden noise that filled the front lobby of the institute. Turning towards it they saw Elias strutting down the titled floors towards them.

"Sorry, didn't mean to frighten you. Jon, I just wanted to discuss a few things before you left. I not, um..." Elias looked between the two of them, "interrupting anything, am I?"

"No! No, no interruption." Jon blurted out, "We just both happened to be leaving."

"We, uh, we take the same train." Martin added on meekly, "So, uh, w-we sometimes head to the station together. Convenient and all that. Nice to have the company."

"Ah, yes, I see." There was another one of those painted on, artificial grins that Elias seemed so fond of wearing lately, "Well then, you wouldn't mind having a quick meeting with me, would you Jon? There's just a few documents I want to double check with you."

"I-uh...yes, of course. I can do that." Jon started moving towards Elias, only stopping for a moment to turn back and stiffly wave to Martin, "I'll, um, I'll see you tomorrow, Martin. Have a good evening."

Martin hid his discomfort from his face well, but a nervous pitch still found it's way into his voice, "Oh, um, yeah, you too Jon. See you tomorrow."

Walking side by side with Elias back to his office, Jon was glad that there was no longer eye contact between the two of them. Jon had never been great about eye contact, but never had anyone been able to make him feel nauseous with it like Elias could. It did appear, however, that Elias was not going to let him off that easy, as he began to speak once again.

"It certainly does seem that you weren't lying about working through your issues with Martin. The two of you appeared to be perfectly comfortable in each others company."

"Yes, as I mentioned," Jon's voice returned to it's usual professional drone, "Martin and myself have made great progress in our working relationship. We had problems at the beginning, but I think those are mostly behind us."

"Excellent." Elias breathed out, sounding not quite delighted by this, "I think it's important that we establish these strong working relationships within our departments. It's good to see you're close with your assistants. That it, so long as you don't let your self get _too_ close, of course. Wouldn't want to cross any lines with the employee-boss dynamic, as I'm sure you know."

Jon crossed his fingers that Elias couldn't hear how loudly his heart was beating. "Of course, Elias."

Elias's hand landed between Jon's shoulder blades, giving a few quick pats there. "I knew I could count on you. Now, I just wanted to discuss some absences that have been filed from your department..."

After that Jon only paid enough attention to what Elias was saying to give an appropriate response. He could barely remember anything that was said in that meeting, only that he left Elias's office nearly 45 minutes later, and that every painting that hung on those office walls seemed to be looking directly at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this thinking "writing some JonMartin stuff is going to be fun :)" but what I didn't expect was that I would absolutely adore writing Peter and Elias. Why are those two old bastards so much fun to write, I hate them so much.  
> Now, I'm pretty sure we've only got 2, maybe 3 chapters left. I'm not totally sure yet, going to have to see how it all pans out, but we're coming up real close to the end. TBH I'm kinda sad about it lol I think that's some of the reason I've been having a hard time writing these last few chapters, I don't want it to be over haha.


	20. The Magnus Institute Is A Terrible Place To Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Martin continue to try to cope with the stresses of their less than normal work environment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me desperately attempting to figure out how to stretch this to 25 chapters because I like the number 25 better than 23 (current number of fully planned chapters) hahaha oof why am I doing this to myself (but also I think I might have figured out how to do it and ooooo it scratches the brain itch)  
> I thought some of you might also appreciate this little fun fact; there was a section of this chapter typed with a lizard on me. He did not make things easy, but we were vibing.

It was just after 8pm when Jon finally walked through the door of his flat. This was the fifth time in two weeks Elias had called to his office for one of these meetings, and to say they were starting to wear on him would be an understatement. His thoughts felt slow an labored after each one, and his body didn't feel like it was in much better shape, joints stiff and muscles tight. He'd also managed to walk away from each of them with increasingly noticeable headaches. Usually it took a month of serious overtime to get him this tired. It seemed Elias had a talent for being exhausting.

He found Martin waiting for him on the couch, scrolling through TV channels in search of reruns that he hadn't watched too many times already. Jon sat down beside him gentle, the spring hardly even creaking under his weight. He sat there for a moment, completely upright, letting the crawling ache sweep over his body. Then, with one heavy, drained exhale, he flopped his head down into Martin's lab. He was pretty sure Martin hadn't even looked away from the TV when he felt a hand start running through his hair.

"Tired?" Martin finally asked after a minute of silence. 

Jon just groaned against Martin's thigh.

"This one seemed longer than the last few."

In a pathetically graceless motion, Jon flipped himself over to face the ceiling, his head still pillowed on Martin's legs. The hand that had been in his hair moved to rest on his chest, thumb rubbing a small line against his sternum, "It was. About ten minutes in his phone rang. I had to sit there for nearly half an hour while he took a call. He didn't even leave the room. He was just sat there, talking away to whoever the hell Peter is, and acting as if I wasn't even in the room."

Martin's face twisted up, "That's...really weird."

"You have no idea." Jon's own face scrunched that the memory of it, "It sounded like a business call but it also seemed uncomfortably personal at the same time. I don't think I can really describe it other than I felt like I very much should not have been listening to it."

"Oh god. That sounds awful." Setting the remote down, having finally decided on some fittingly mindless show, Martin tilted his head down so the distressed look on his face was clear for Jon to see, "I know that different people have different ways of doing things, but seriously, what is up with that guy?"

"I have no idea." Jon breathed out in a defeated sigh. He knew the way Elias was treating him wasn't ok, and this wasn't how your employer was supposed to treat you, but at this point he'd already put enough on the line for this job, it was all just another drop in the bucket. 

"Elias is a weird boss." Martin quietly said. 

"Elias is a twat." Jon stated outright.

There was a snort as Martin tried to hold back his laughter, "Ok then, I see we're not beating around the bush tonight."

Jon could feel his face going hot, suddenly aware of how blunt he'd been, "Sorry, I'm a bit out of it right now."

"No no, it's ok, you're right, he is indeed a twat." Martin mumbled out between laughs. Jon wasn't sure if it was the situation itself or just that beautiful, fond smile that Martin was giving him, but he couldn't help but join in with the laughing. 

After they started to settle down again, though, Jon felt his day wash over him again. The soreness in his muscles made even more prominent from the laughter shaking through his body, and his headache now leaning towards pounding. His eyelids felt too heavy, so he let them fall closed, crossing his fingers that he would be able to stay awake for a little while longer.

"Oh Jon." He heard Martin murmur, his voice sounding a little sadder than before. Martin brought his free hand over to Jon's face, gently stroking knuckles along the plains of his cheeks, "You look exhausted."

Jon gave an affirming hum in response, leaving his face into the touch.

"You can't keep going on like this. Between the late meetings, and the fact you've been working yourself half to death lately-"

"I've honestly been hoping the extra work might help prevent some of the meetings." He gave a halfhearted chuckle, still keeping his eyes shut. He couldn't bring himself to face those big, worried eyes he knew Martin was looking at him with. He was too tired to deal with that heartbreak, "I guess it hasn't exactly been working so far."

"No, apparently not." Martin's hand moved to stroke at Jon's hair again, and Jon found himself focusing very closely on what was being said to try and stay awake, "I just hate seeing you like this. It's hard to watch you keep draining yourself out so often. And I'm starting to worry that you're going to just collapse before Elias even thinks of going any easier on you."

"I'm starting to worry about that myself."

He could feel the way Martin's muscles tensed in agitation, "Why does he even need to have these stupid meeting with you at the end of the day? Why can't he just have them during normal working hours like a normal person would?"

"He said it had something to do with 'not wanted to interfere with the progress I'm making in the archive'. Because apparently being so tired that my eyes won't even focus on half the statements I read is beneficial to my work." The sarcasm in his voice could just be heard through the roughness of it, "Hasn't been all bad, though."

"Oh?"

"I've actually managed to negotiate a few things with him." Jon chanced opening his eyes, the glare of the lights about a irritating as he expected. At least Martin didn't look too concerned, so there was at least that bit of relief, "I finally convinced him to increase security. He tried to tell me it wasn't necessary, but it turns out my persistence has it's uses. And don't you start about me being stubborn, I did it for you."

"I wasn't going to say anything," Martin insisted, though his smile suggested otherwise. "But thank you for that. I really do appreciate it."

"I got him to expense move CO2 canisters as well. That one was a bit easier. The prospect of protecting his precious documents was a good selling point. I know we already have quite a few, but I thought better to be safe than sorry." He let his view drift back to the ceiling, "It's honestly the least I can do."

"Nope. No you don't." Martin leaned forwards to look straight down at him, "You're not doing another one of your guilt spirals right now. We've talked about this Jon. You did everything you could."

"You were trapped for a week Martin! And I-"

"And you did everything you could." Martin's hands landed on his shoulder, pinning him in place, "I know you're going to try and say you should have come looking for me, but what were you supposed to do? You couldn't have know where I was, so what, were you just going to, just search the whole country for me? And then even if you did find me, all that probably would have been accomplished from that would have been getting yourself eaten by some evil worm woman. It's ok, Jon. I'm ok. Alright?"

If Jon hadn't been ready to deal with Martin's worried looks, he certainly wasn't ready to this. That loving insistence that took a hold of Jon's chest and squeezed. It was easy to see that he wasn't going to budge on this. And the thing was Jon knew he was right. He wouldn't have had the first clue where to actually find Martin when he'd gotten trapped. Maybe it didn't make the guilt go away completely, but it could at least get it to be a little quieter. Besides, Martin was right about the other part, too. He was ok. He was here and he was safe, and for now, Jon could just be happy with that.

"Alright." He agreed quietly. Martin softened up at that, the smile returning to his face and his hands loosening their grip.

"Good." Martin nodded, settling back on the couch again. He tipped his head down so that he could still look at Jon, "Now, how about we get you something to eat. You probably haven't eaten anything since lunch."

He waved a dismissive hand, "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Martin shot him a doubtful grimace, " _Jon_."

Jon opened his mouth to protest further, but an unfortunately timed stomach growl beat him to it. Martin just raised an eyebrow at him.

"You just don't want to get up, do you?"

"...maybe." He scowled. Or at least he considered it a scowl, simply because he refused to describe it as a pout.

With an exaggerated eye roll, Martin giggled, "You know, it's a good thing you're cute."

* * *

Jon was just a few steps into the hallways of the archive on his way to the breakroom when a familiar yelp made him double his pace. He rounded the corner into the breakroom, his shoes skidding slightly along the floor.

"Martin?"

Martin was standing with his back pressed against the fridge, shoulders hiked up and a fire extinguisher in his hands. He was fumbling with the pin, his hands too frantic to get a proper grip on it. Jon could also hear the disgusted and increasingly frustrated sounds he was making.

Rushing over Jon grabbed for the extinguisher, causing Martin to jump and let out another cry.

"Hey, hey, it's just me." He ran a hand over Martin's forearm, finally getting hold of the canister with the other, "Where are-"

"Corner." Martin pointed with a shaking hand to the other side of the room, "B-beside the table, right by the wall."

Cautiously Jon moved closer to the spot, but ever before he saw them he could hear the noise. That awful wet sound that they made as they wriggled and squirmed. Then he spotted the mass of their little silvery bodies. There was maybe a dozen or so in total, writhing against each other. Every time he came across these things they left him feeling strangely unclean, like the sight of them alone was enough to coat you in filth. 

He let loose the stream of gas, covering a wide sweep of the floor around them to make sure he didn't miss any stray worms. He knew that he was likely using more gas than was necessary, but he wasn't taking any chances with them. Once he was certain they were did, he quickly searched the rest of the floor for any other small silver bodies. It didn't look like there were any others, so he let his attention turn back to the other pressing matter in the room.

Martin was still crammed up against the fridge, eyes squeezed shut and hands knotted into his hair. His breathing was heavy, probably in an effort to try and calm himself down, but it was still shaking too much, each exhale making the rest of him shudder as well. 

Jon set the canister down on the table and stepped over in front of Martin. He was about to reach out to touch him, but hesitated.

"Martin." He said quietly, to announce himself, "Martin, it's alright. They're dead, I got them."

Slowly he opened his eyes, first looking down at Jon, then over to where the worms had been. Seeing that the now lifeless bodies, Martin breathed a relieved sigh, some of the tension falling away from him.

"God I hate those things." Martin mumbled through clenched teeth. He'd now begun to impulsively wipe his hands against his clothes, as if he was trying to remove some nonexistent grime from them. Jon reached an took hold of Martin's wrists, just barely gripping onto them, offering something steady to ground himself with. Martin's hands stilled for a moment, then moved again, this time to grab onto Jon's.

"I know. It's ok. Just breath." Jon kept his voice low, trying his best to be soothing. He nearly lead Martin over to the table to sit, but remembering the proximity to the worm corpses, he choose to drag a chair over to Martin instead. Martin gladly took the seat, letting his body slump as his breathing started to steady, "That's it, deep breaths. You're alright, I've got you."

With a last uneven sigh, Martin tipped his head back against the fridge, his body going limp. "I...I just...ugh, I feel ridiculous. It's just a couple worms but...but they're just _gross_ , ok? Stupid, disgusting little things. I just wanted to make some damn tea, for God's sake, and now...ah, it's like I can feel like crawling all over me."

"It's ok, Martin, you'd don't need to explain yourself." After a quick glance at the door, Jon leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Martin's forehead, "You know, I could always hose you down with the CO2, if you wanted."

Despite himself, Martin managed a laugh, "Don't tempt me, I might actually take you up on that offer."

They feel into a comfortable silence for a minute, using their company smooth out the last remaining hum of nerves. The moment only broke when Jon felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket. He pulled it out curiously.

**Sasha James (1:01pm):** "Elias incoming. Looking for you. Tim is holding him back for now, but be prepared." 

" _Shit_."

He'd nearly forgotten about the other horrid creature they'd had to deal with in the archives lately. The four of them had been trying to keep each other informed of where Elias was when he showed up, through text or whispers when passing in the hall, whatever they could manage. Jon was certainly thankful for it, it usually gave him time to prepare for it, or in this case, to make sure he wasn't caught in an unfortunate situation.

"What's wrong?" Martin asked, some of the earlier anxiety returning to his face.

"Elias."

"Shit." He echoed, clambering to his feet. "What do we want to-"

"He's looking for me, apparently." Jon said quietly, worried he might be overheard, "Are you ok to head back to the office? Or wherever really. I'll stay here."

"Yeah ok. You'll get the extinguisher, and the..." Martin's voice trailed off as he glanced back to the corner of the room.

"Yes, I'll deal with it." The sound of Tim's voice started to echo down the halls, "Ok, now go."

Martin moved quickly out the door, straightening his back when he got into the hall, trying to look composed. Jon got to work shoving the extinguisher under the sink, and then kicked the worm corpses under the fridge. The scramble was probably unnecessary; Elias knew about the worms and the CO2 and everything, and it wasn't like it was that suspicious for coworkers to be in a breakroom at the same time. Elias, however, seemed to have a habit of asking strange questions, always scrutinizing whatever scene he walked in on. The less explaining they had to do, the better.

Jon could hear the voices clearly now, and tried to make himself look natural as the foot steps came through the doorway.

"-so yeah, I know it's probably inconvenient, and it's not really your job to handle this directly, but I just figured I ran into you-"

"Tim. Fine, consider it approved, you can have the two days off, now if you would please excuse me."

"Oh, yep, righto boss. I'll get back to the old grindstone then." Tim did a little salute as he back out of the room, "And thank you for the time off."

As Tim left, Elias began to rub at the bridge of his nose. Jon wondered what exactly Tim had said to him to get him this visibly annoyed. He knew from personal experience that Tim's skills with people meant he also knew just the right ways to push their buttons.

"Hello, Elias."

Elias shook his head, coming back to himself, "Ah, Jon. I was looking for you. If you have time I was hoping to have you walk me through your organizational process for the documents. Given the state they were in when you started down here, I want to make sure everything is in order." He paused and looked around the room, "Though I guess I should let you finish your break first."

"Yes, I was just..." Suddenly at a loss for what he'd actually come in here for, Jon's eyes darted around him. He spotted the box Martin had left on the counter a lifted it up, "Just making a cup of tea. Shouldn't be long."

"Of course. Well, I'll let you finish." Elias nodded. He did another once over on the room, his eyes stopping just beside Jon, narrowing in confusion, "Why is that chair there? If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh, uh..." Jon looked down at where the chair he'd pulled away from the table still sat against the counter. He'd been so focused on getting the remanence of the worm incident hidden he'd forgotten about it. He then looked back to the box of tea in his hand, and decided with a sigh it was the best he was going to come up with on the fly, "I, um, well I wanted to make tea and...it was on the top shelf, so..."

He pointed meekly to the cabinets next to his head, the highest shelf of which was in fact a bit too high for him to comfortably use. They had never at any point kept tea up there, and they hardly got used period, but it was at least a believable excuse.

Elias looked him up and out, a smile on his face that was probably supposed to be sympathetic but read more pitying, "I see. Perhaps we can see about getting a step ladder, might be safer. Anyway, I will let you finish up. I can just wait in your office until then."

With that, Elias walked back out of the room, leaving Jon by himself. Overall it had gone better than Jon expected it. His pride might have been worse off, but off all the ways Elias had left him feeling, embarrassed was certainly the preferable option.

He took one more look down box in his hand and shrugged.

"I guess I'm making tea, then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter really turned into Insult Elias Time at a few points, but it's ok because he deserves it. It was also very much Jon And Martin Comfort Each Other Time, which is also good, because they also deserve it.  
> Oh yeah, I realized while writing this chapter that of the many many bits of canon I decided to just forget about, Michael was one of them, so we're just going to pretend like Sasha's whole Distortion encounter just happened like it usually did and they all just kinda rolled with it.


	21. Like Seeing Your Teacher In A Grocery Store

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Martin attempt to have a nice night. However, neither of them are very lucky people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, credit for the ideas for this chapter have to go to comments from not_mikewazowski and Mrs_Non_Gorilla (who technically commented this idea on Supplemental Fluff, but I figured out a way to work it in here so I hope that's ok). I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the suggestions, thank you both so much for them!!!  
> And thank you to everyone who continues to support this fic. All of your comments and kudos mean so much to me ❤ Plus some of the comments are seriously hilarious, I love them.  
> I hope the new year has been treating everyone well so far!!
> 
> Also, this chapter contains mentions/descriptions of alcohol and drunkenness, so please be aware of that if those things bother you

The first days of summer had set in over London, bringing with it its late sunsets and warm evenings. Jon and Martin had both managed to get out of work (mostly) on time, so they actually had a chance to properly enjoy the nice weather. They still had some time before they supposed to meet Tim and Sasha.

Over the last few month nights out had become a regular things for the archival staff, happening at least once every other week. They all liked getting to spend time together more casually, and it gave them the opportunity to talk about things they couldn't really talk about at work. Because of that, and more importantly for Jon and Martin's sake, they'd changed the pub they went to since the first two times. The first one had been convenient, but it was just a bit too close to the institute, and so too likely to have unwanted encounters occur. They'd managed to find a quite little hole in the wall a good bit father away from the institute that had suited them well so far.

It also happened that about half way between the institute and this pub was a park, which was a fact Jon and Martin had taken full advantage of so far. They had made it a part of their routine for these days, stopping in the park for twenty or thirty minutes before going to meet with the others. It gave them both a chance to clear their head and settle their thoughts down. Hand in hand they would stroll along the paths or rest on one of the benches for a while, nothing they needed to worry about except each others company. Work had been weighing on both of them heavily lately, so they appreciated the time to decompress. It wasn't even necessarily the work itself that was the problem, but everything else that had been going on in the archive. The worm issue hadn't been getting any better largely, and Elias's continued presence in the archive had managed to suck every bit of warmth out of that basement. Where in the early spring they had managed to achieve an air of comfortable camaraderie despite the place, there was now only the growing feeling of being watched.

This particular evening they had opted to wander around the park, stretching out their legs after a long day of being stuck at their desks. As they walked, thought, Martin noticed more and more how quite Jon was being. This wasn't totally unusual for him, sometimes he needed time to recharge after work. Half the reason they had started coming to this park was because it was an opportunity for him to relax a little before socializing. But this wasn't his usual quite. From the spaced out look on his face Martin could tell there was something on his mind.

Martin bumped into his should to catch his attention, "Hey, how're you feeling? Almost ready to take on the pub?"

There was a pause as Jon took a second to consider himself. After a few seconds he sighed, "No, not quite yet. I think I need a few more minutes." He turned to Martin, is face apologetic, "You don't mind, do you?"

"Are you kidding me? I don't mind at all. It's beautiful out today, I'm more than happy to stay here for a while." Were it not for the knowledge that Tim and Sasha would be expecting them, Martin would have been content to just spend their evening wandering the park aimlessly. Perhaps they'd do that another time, he decided. Continuing their walk, however, he could see that Jon's contemplative expression hadn't faded any. He gave his hand a squeeze, "You alright? You look like you have something on your mind."

Jon visibly tensed. He hesitated a few times, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly, before he managed to respond in a low voice, "I, uh...I found....I found Jane Prentiss's statement today."

Martin inhaled sharply, but tried to ignore the pit of dread that he felt in his stomach every time he heard that name, "Oh. That's, um..."

"Yeah." 

An awkward silence fell over them. Those damn worms seemed to be showing up more and more in the archive. There was hardly a moment in those archives anymore where their skin wasn't crawling. 

"You know what?" Martin turned to Jon, determined, "That can be a problem for tomorrow. We're not at work, so for tonight why don't we just try to forget about it. I think we deserve to have a night where we can just have fun and enjoy ourselves, without any supernatural bullshit getting in the way. What'd you say?"

A smile bloomed across Jon's face as he nodded slightly, "Yeah...yeah you're right. Let's just enjoy ourselves tonight. I think we can...do...that..." As quickly as the smile had appeared it faded, Jon's voice trailing off as something behind Martin grabbed his attention. His eyes went wide in shock, "Oh you can't be serious."

Martin whirled around looking for whatever Jon had seen. It didn't take long to spot it; even at a distance that expensive looking suit and grandiose attitude stuck out.

"That can't be-"

"Elias."

They exchanged an panicked look, and then immediately ducked into the small grove of trees next to them. It wasn't much cover, but it was better than being out in the open. Even if they did look ridiculous.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Martin bit out in a whisper.

"I don't know. Going for a walk, I guess?" Jon suggested, keeping his own just just barely audible.

"But why does he have to do it _here_?"

"I have no idea."

"I don't think I've ever even seen his leave the institute before."

"I...god, I don't think I have either."

"So what do we do?"

"Well we can't let him see us together."

"Yes, _obviously_ , Jon. How are we going to do that?"

Jon craned his neck to look at Elias again. He seemed to be occupied by something on his phone, so there was a decent chance he hadn't seen them yet, which was good. However, it did look like he was slowly making his way in there direction, which was considerably less good.

He repositioned himself to face Martin again, but his eyes continued to dart back and forth to where Elias was, "We're going to have to split up. You go one way, I'll go the other. We can meet up at the pub."

"Think that's the best way to do this?" Martin asked earnestly.

"Would you rather we continue to hide behind a tree and hope he doesn't see us?"

"No no, you're right." Martin checked over his shoulder. Elias hadn't gotten much closer, but they were running out of time to squabble about this, "So who's running in which direction?"

Jon gestured back down the path, "I'll head that way, maybe you can go-"

Martin's face twisted up, "Whoa, wait, why exactly are you going _towards_ Elias?"

"...I thought if I went that way I might distract him and he wouldn't notice you." He responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dropping his face into his hands Martin sighed heavily, "That's so stupid, but somehow also sweet. Alright, fine, let's do this. You go that way, and I'll try and sneak off without him seeing me."

Straightening his back, Jon gathered up as much confidence as he could, "Alright. Wish me luck."

"Good luck. I'll see you again soon." Leaning down, he pulled Jon in for a quick kiss, then let out a short laugh, "God, it feels like I'm sending you into battle or something."

"It feels quite like that for me as well." Jon said, cringing slightly as he looked back down towards Elias.

"We'll meet up at the pub?"

"Yes. I'll see you there." And with that, Jon stepped out from the trees and started back they way they had came a few minutes before. Martin waited a few seconds to steady himself before starting off on his own way. As he slipped around the bend in the path, though, he could just faintly hear a voice in the distance.

"Jon! What a coincidence, seeing you here..."

* * *

It was a solid twenty five minutes after everyone else had arrived when Jon slumped down in the booth, head landing face down on the table.

"Jon?" Sasha said, her voice saturated with pity, "You doing ok?"

"No."

A hand landed on his back, rubbing a few circles between his shoulder blades. Martin then gave him a small shake to get his attention, "Here, let me out, I'll go grab us something to drink."

Jon wearily lifted himself from the booth, letting Martin slide out after him and head towards the bar. He sat back down as soon as he could, wedging himself up against the well so he'd have something else to lean on. 

"Jon, I'm going to say this as your friend, because I care about you," Tim begun, which Jon knew meant he was probably not going to like whatever was about to come out of Tim's mouth next, "But you look like death."

"Did Martin tell you what happened?" Jon mumbled.

"What, about your heroic act to protect your beloved husband from our weirdo boss. Yes he did." Tim said, a smirk painted across his face. Jon halfheartedly glared at him.

Martin returned to the booth, placing a glass in front of Jon, who immediately took it up to take a drink. Jon wasn't one much for drinking usually, even back in uni he hadn't cared all that much for it, but tonight he decided that the buzz of alcohol in his veins wasn't going to be any worse then everything else he'd put up with today. 

"So how did it go with Elias?" Martin asked softly.

"About as agonizing as you'd expect." Jon placed his drink backdown on the table with a heavy thud, "A lot of the usual 'I'm counting on you' and 'you're work is the cornerstone of the institute' and such. I think he tries to say it as a compliment of some sort, but all he ever manages to do is remind me how much pressure there is on me."

There was another comforting touch on his back from Martin. Jon responded to it by tipping himself to lean into Martin's side, and so Martin wrapped an arm around his shoulder so he could settle in more comfortably.

Sasha looked at him sympathetically, "Oh Jon, that sounds awful. Is there anything we can do?"

"I already have you three working on more statements than is probably reasonable, Sasha. I-"

"I don't mean as assistants." She clarified, "I mean as friends. We are your friends, after all. We can help you with more than just work. All you have to do is ask. We're here for you."

"Yeah, we're happy to help." Tim added enthusiastically, "Seriously, if you ever need us for anything, just let us know."

He stared across at them, his chest suddenly feeling heavy, but strangely warm. The arm around him tightened slightly, "T-thank you both. That's very kind." There was a prickle of tears threatening to well up in his eyes, so he quickly blinked them away with a laugh, "Alright, I am much too tired for this much emotion. What were you talking about before?"

"Oh the usual, complaining about work and all that." Sasha giggled, not quite hiding her fond smile. Jon was thankful she at least made an attempt to spare him some dignity, unlike Tim, who was looking at him with teasing, exaggerated puppy-dog eyes.

"Well, I certain have some things to say on that topic." Jon tried to sound humorous, but with how tired he felt he was worried it came out a bit more pathetic than intended.

Tim nodded at him, "I bet. I do not understand why Elias feels the need to be on your case so much. He's got you working like a dog."

"I know. It's...a lot. And there's just so much work to do. And he put so much trust in me. And I just..." He let his voice trail off, hesitating to say what he was thinking next. He never quite knew how to broach the subject with Tim and Sasha, about his work habits. About how working himself to the bone like this at least made him feel accomplished. Made him feel useful. Made him feel worthy. Or how he felt so underqualified for this current job that he felt he needed to work this hard or else everyone would know he doesn't deserve the position. Like if he didn't everyone would know they should never have trusted him. It wasn't a conversation he wanted to have tonight. Like he said, he was too tired for this much emotion. "...I just have to get it done."

The hummed quiet sounds in agreement. They all certainly did better jobs at hiding it than he did, but Jon could see the exhaustion that he settled deep in each of them over the past few months. Jon often wondered that if it weren't for needing to pay their rent if any of them would continue to put up with that place, or if they felt they had something to prove like him. He had also begun to wonder if whatever he was trying to prove was worth it any more. But whatever the answers might have been, they were all still there. Begrudgingly there, but there anyway. At least it meant none of them had to deal with it alone.

"Hey," Sasha exclaimed cheerily, breaking the tired silence, "This friend I had back in uni just got a puppy. They posted some pictures, do you guy want to see them"

"Yes." The three of them blurted out in unison. Sasha pulled out her phone and they all leaned in to see.

* * *

Jon had tuned out of the conversation a while ago, somewhere around the second or third time Sasha had burst into a fit of giggles at Tim's sloppy attempts to flirt with her. The alcohol had only ended up emphasizing his tiredness, and he knew that none of them minded too much when he would zone out for a bit, so he'd simply stopped trying to pay attention any longer. Instead he let himself blearily gaze around the room, drifting his view lazily from place to place.

It was a decently nice place they'd settled on. Not significantly nicer than the other pub, but it worked well for them. The booths definitely seemed to be in better shape, the green vinyl of the cushions noticeably less cracked. All the wooden surfaces were also stained a slightly darker colour, so the signs of use weren't quite as obvious. It was smaller than the last place, so the noise sometimes felt a bit more enveloping, but luckily it was rarely packed enough that this became a problem for Jon.

It was busier today than it usually was, however. It still wasn't too loud or anything, but there were definitely more tables filling up than normally. Jon had been watching as people had filtered in throughout the night, though the details of their faces had become harder to make out as drinks were had and his vision went hazy around the edges. It could be entertaining, sometimes, observing strangers, seeing how they conducted themselves, and how they might change after a few drinks. Maybe he wasn't exactly a people person, but that didn't mean he was completely disinterested in the people around him. 

The sound of the door opening drew Jon's attention again. He looked across the pub to watch as a single person in a suit strode into the pub. He squinted his eyes to try and make out their details a little better. They appeared to be a man, probably about average height. It was a nice suit they were wearing, a little over dressed for this place, frankly. His eyes moved back up to their face, taking in the greying, slicked back hair as he tried to get a clear look at their features. There was something almost familiar about them. Jon felt as his heartbeat sped up.

Ignoring whatever other conversation was going on, Jon grabbed on to Martin's arm and pointed a finger towards the man, "Do you see that guy? The one in the suit that just walked in?"

The three of them all turned their heads in the direction Jon had gestured. Martin looked at him, uncertain, "Um, yeah. Why?"

"Is it just me or does he look like-"

At that moment the man is question looked in there direction, and Jon, in a slit second decision made from panic and alcohol, drove under the table. 

"Jon what the fuck are you doing!" Martin cried out, trying to pull him back up.

"He looks like Elias!" Jon stubbornly resisted against Martin's attempts, "Christ, is he fucking following us!?"

"So you decided to hide under the table?"

"Yes!"

"You're being ridiculous!"

"I think the word you're looking for is paranoid." Tim muttered. Jon watched him flinch as Sasha jabbed an elbow into his side.

"I am _trying_ to be _cautious_." Jon insisted harshly.

" _Jon_."

" _Martin_."

Martin's hands stopped tugging at Jon, but stayed holding onto him. Jon could see as Martin moved his head around, getting a good look at the man. A few seconds of looking later he leaned down closer to Jon to speak in a more hushed tone, "It's not Elias."

"You're sure?" He didn't mean for it to come out are frantic as it ended up. 

"Yes, Jon, I'm sure. It's just a normal, smug looking middle aged guy with a suit and a stupid moustache." There was another gentle pull on Jon's shoulders, "It's fine, love, now will you please come out from under there?"

Slowly, Jon started to creep out from under the table, pausing shortly when the table jolted from something making impact with it. He eventually settled back into his seat with as much composure as possible, clutching at the back of his head. Martin gently wrapped his arms around him. Tim and Sasha just looked at him with a mixture of awkwardness and concern. He was pretty sure it wasn't the alcohol that was making his stomach turn.

Tim shot him a nervous smile, "You doing alright ther-"

"Just don't."

"Right on, boss."

"Maybe next time," Sasha suggested delicately, "We should just do this at one of our flats."

Martin nodded stiffly, giving Jon a squeeze, "That's probably a good idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, my entire motivation behind giving Elias a "stupid moustache" was inspired by all the people I see draw or cosplay him with a little frigging pencil moustache, I love that shit so much. (Or, alternatively, the people who have drawn or cosplayed him with Ben Meredith's absolutely iconic facial hair, those are also amazing). And Jon smacked his head on the table because I am once again projecting very weird things about myself onto Jon (god I hit my head on things a lot lol).


	22. Oh Yeah, It's All Coming Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something...off about the institute lately, and no one can quite put their finger on what it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's TMA thing I decided to indulge myself of this chapter: Peter not knowing the first thing about technology.  
> I hope you're all doing well and staying safe out there. Enjoy the chapter :)

Elias wouldn't say he was surprised when he saw Peter standing across form him. He'd felt that telltale chill of The Lonely fill the room, announcing his arrival to those who recognized it. And it was his institute after all. Even when he wasn't truly Watching, he was still aware of what was going on in it, especially when it came to the presence of another Entity. So no, Elias would not say that he was surprised by Peter. No, if he had to pick a word, the would he would have chosen was confused.

"Can I help you with something?" Elias asked in a dry voice. It wasn't often Peter would show up uninvited, and when he did it was for one of two reasons; because he intended to torment him like the petty, flippant man Elias knew Peter to be, or because he needed something. Elias was certain he hadn't done anything worth mocking, so he suspected Peter had come for the later reason.

Peter held his phone towards Elias, the beat up old screen shining dully in his face, "Elias, what the hell is this?"

"What the hell is _this_ , Peter?" He grabbed the little thing out of Peter's hands, tuning it over to inspect the cracked plastic and clunky design, "How old is this thing?"

Snatching his phone back, Peter glared, "I'm not here for you to criticize my phone."

"Well, you are now." Elias smirked. Peter threw his head back with a regretful groan. "It's ancient. Not to mention it looks like you've thrown it down a flight of stairs, with all those cracks and dents. You do know you have more than enough money to replace it, yes? You can't tell me you're actually that much of a luddite."

"I knew I should have just called you." Peter mumbled under his breath. "Listen, I don't want a new phone. I have this phone. It works. I know how to use it. That is good enough for me. Now, I get that you seem to be in one of your _moods_ , but will you please put that aside for thirty seconds and just tell me what the hell this message is supposed to mean?"

Elias looked back to the phone once again being held in front of him. The screen displayed a text message that he had sent the previous day. The message had no actual words, just three emojis; a clock, and a a caterpillar, and a smile. His eyes then drifted back up to Peter's face, where he could the genuine distress and confusion behind the layers of annoyance. 

_Well, I guess this is why he didn't text back_

"It means that there is something coming. Or at least that I believe there is." Elias said flatly.

"You believe there is?" Peter gave him a more openly curious glance, "You don't Know?"

Leaning back in his chair, Elias kept his face as neutral as he could, "No. Not entirely, that is. I know that there is _something_ , but I'm just not sure of the details at the moment. It's currently in a bit of a...blind spot for me."

Peter gave him a once over, one eyebrow raised, "You certainly seem calm about this. Normally you don't do so well with the whole not Knowing thing."

The grin Elias had been suppressing finally broke out across his face, "Yes, that is true. But, sometimes when something comes along that seems to just fit so perfectly with your plans, you can accept a little uncertainty."

"This is one of your secret, evil plans that you refuse to tell me about, I assume?" 

"Yes, yes it is." Elias chuckled, "But don't worry, Peter, I will tell you about this particular plan eventually. In fact, I might need your for it at some point, depending on how this all plays out. I don't want to let on too much too early, though. This is much too important to risk anyone trying to interfere. I would at least like to see if this first part goes how I hope it will before I tell you anything."

"Sounds like you've got a lot riding on this." Peter stated, just a hit of suspicion creeping into his words.

Elias nodded, his face souring slightly, "Well, if this _doesn't_ go according to plan, I will likely be in need of a new Archivist once again, so I'm really rather hoping to avoid that."

"I would imagine." Peter breathed out. "I could always still help if you needed. From what you've told me isolation seems to be beneficial to most of your schemes. A little bit of Loneliness might be just what you need."

"Thank you, Peter, but no. When I need your help I will ask for it. Until then, I think I can handle myself." Elias purred smugly.

Peter stared at him for a moment, exasperation with him clear on his otherwise blank face. Given that he was currently standing to his full, rather impressive height, and looking down at where Elias was seated, Elias suspected this was supposed to be intimidating. Elias suspected it might have been intimidating to some, but he knew Peter well enough that, when it came to him at least, Peter was all bark, no bite. With a sigh Peter eventually looked away, and his eyes then went back to his phone, his expression twisting back up in frustration. "I still don't understand why you decided to try and tell me all that like _this_. I swear, sometimes you do these things just so I have to drag myself down here for an explanation."

Elias let out a low, throaty laugh that would have almost sounded affectionate, were it not for the undertone of condescension in it, "Maybe. Or maybe I simply though you would have enjoyed texting. I figured you'd appreciate a more impersonal form of communication like that."

"Have you ever known me to use text messages? Ever?" His eyes narrowed, shaded under his furrowed brows. 

"You know, it's honestly quite incredible." Elias rolled his eyes as exaggerated as he could, "I was born in the 1700s, and somehow, you're the one who completely lacks a grasp on modern technology."

Peter's glare deepened, which only worked to make Elias's satisfied grin grow wider.

"You're an insufferable little man."

"Oh Peter, you really are such the flatterer."

* * *

"End recording."

Placing the statement back into it's file, Jon breathed out a sigh. He looked at the pile of newly recorded statements that this was now joining, quietly impressed by the size of it. For a while he'd he having some trouble recording statements - well, some of the statements; the ones that went on tape were as uncomfortably easy to get lost in as ever - so he was pleased to see that he seemed to have caught a second wind of sort. He liked feeling like he was able to actually get work done again. He wasn't sure what had changed, but obviously something had.

Jon, of course, knew you weren't supposed to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he couldn't help but be just a little bothered by it. It had been on his mind all day, what might have changed, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It wasn't that it was a bad thing, or that he was suspicious about it, if anything he was glad for the change. Jon was simply the kind of person who didn't like not having the answers. Something must have changed, and it seemed to have changed for the better, so he just wanted to know what it was. Maybe he was just sleeping better, but even then, it lead him to the question of _why_ was he suddenly sleeping better.

Pushing himself up out of his chair, Jon did his best to put the questions out of his mind. He was being more productive, so for now he would have to be satisfied with that knowledge and take advantage of it. After cringing at the pops his spine made when he stretcher it out, he grabbed the stack of statements and headed out to the assistants office space.

"Martin," Jon walked over to his desk, holding the files out towards him, "Would you be able to get these back into storage for me?"

"Yeah, of course." Martin said with a smile. He then gestured to his laptop, "I've just got one thing to finish up, then I can get right on that."

"That will be perfect, thank you. Sasha, how are those cases coming along so far?"

She only glanced up from her screen for a moment before returning to scanning over the words in front of her, "No complains yet. Should be able to have some of these ready for you tomorrow."

Jon gave an approving nod, "Excellent. And Tim, do you have-"

"The statements you asked for yesterday?" Tim pulled a few folders off his desk, quickly flipping through them, "Uh, some of them. I've gotten a bit stuck on a few. I've got the Ramao one ready to got for you, if you wanted that one."

"Yes, thank you Tim, that should do." He grabbed the file from Tim, leafing through the pages for a moment, "Sasha, perhaps if you have some time, you and Tim can work together on the statements he's been having trouble with. Might make things easier with two of you on them, speed things up a bit."

Sasha spun her chair towards them, "Sure, I can do that. Sound good to you, Tim?"

"You know I'd never complain about working with you." Tim threw in a wink at the end. Sasha responded with a fond eye roll before focusing back on her work.

"Right. That's all settled then." Jon nodded again, stiffer this time. He lingered where he was standing, looking at the file in his hand, then around the room. Was it always this organized in here? No, he was certain these desk had been much more cluttered not too long ago. Just a few weeks ago he can remember this room had been starting to look like his own office, backed up with work that needed to be done, filled with nervous people struggling to keep up. Something was definitely different, he just couldn't-

"Jon?" Martin's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. The concerned looks on his assistants faces told him he must have been standing there for longer than he probably should have.

"Oh, ah, sorry. I'm fine. It's just...has anyone else noticed anything...different, lately?"

"Different how?" Martin asked apprehensively.

"Nothing bad. At least I don't think so. It's...well..." He ran a hand over his face "Alright, I know this sounds ridiculous, but, have any of you found you've been more productive lately? More...relaxed?"

The others looked at their desks, at the work in front of them, seemingly just noticing the lack of files piled up around them, their faces going tight with this new curiosity.

"And if it had just been one of us, that wouldn't be so strange." Jon continued, "But it wasn't. It feels like just a few weeks ago we were all scrabbling around barely able to keep up with anything, and now...something has to have changed. I know I probably sound like some conspiracy theorist, but all four of suddenly being able to work again, all around the same time can't be a complete coincidence. I just can't figure out what changed."

"That is kinda weird." Tim mumbled. 

They all took in the realization, each of them silently mulling over anything that might have changed. After a few seconds, Sasha perked up. 

"Wait...wait, I thought of something." She looked at Jon, one finger pointing towards him, "When would you say this all started? The productivity and everything?"

"Um...Two, maybe three weeks ago." He replied, uncertain.

"Alright." She had that same smile she usually wore when near the end of a tricky research project. Her eyes swept across the others, "Now tell me this; when was the last time any of us saw Elias?"

Jon stopped to make sure he wasn't misremembering, "He hasn't been in the archive since the last week of June. Do you really think-"

"Think about it Jon. Nothing else has changed about the archives. The only thing that is different is Elias isn't looming over us anymore."

A small breath of a laugh escaped Jon, "Good lord, I think you're right."

"Shocking," Tim snarked, "Who would have guessed that not feeling like you're constantly being watched would be good for morale."

Martin pressed his hands to his cheeks, forcing an overexaggerated gasp, "What, are you saying making employees uncomfortable _isn't_ good for productivity? Is it not a standard thing to have your boss creep around your workplace like a poltergeist?" The others laughed openly, for what felt like the first time in months in the archives.

Sasha turned back to Jon, "Did Elias say anything to you about why he stopped?"

"No, but Elias never has been very forthcoming with information to me." Jon huffed dryly, "Maybe he's just satisfied with how we're running the archive."

"Maybe he just finally got tired of us." Tim suggested with an overly sweet smile. 

"Maybe he got tired of the worms." Martin added, the edge in his voice not quite veiled. The laughter in the room turned a little more uneasy.

"Whatever the reason," Sasha clapped her hands together, breaking the tension slightly, "Let's just hope he stays away."

"Yes, let's." Jon looked back down to the file in his hand, "Well, now that that's solved, we should probably get back to work. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my office."

* * *

It was about half an hour after Jon had gone to record that statement when a crash rang through the room. Martin rushed out of his chair and towards the door. When he swung open the door there was Jon, standing in front of what appeared to be the collapsed remains of a bookshelf, it's contents scattered across the floor. 

" _Christ_ , what the hell happened in here? Are you alright?" He took a few more steps into the office, looking for any obvious injuries on Jon.

"It's fine, I'm alright." Jon started brushing dust off himself, double checking to make sure he was in fact fine, "The bookshelf collapsed."

"Yes, I see that." Martin kicked a piece of debris aside and he moved closer, "Did it just...do it out of nowhere, or..."

Jon suddenly looked bashful, he eyes lingering on the book in his hand, "Oh, um, no. Not exactly. There, um, there was...a spider."

Martin exhaled something between a sigh and a laugh, shaking his head, "Oh my god, Jon."

"What?"

"Ok, I know you don't do well with them, but even you have to admit that this looks like a bit of an overreaction for a spider." He gestured to the books and broken pieces of chipboard.

"Well I didn't intend to break the bookshelf. You know that the shelving down here isn't exactly high quality." Jon protested defensively. 

"Yeah yeah, I know. I'm honestly shocked some of the shelves down here have lasted this long from the looks of them." He rubbed a hand across Jon's back, which did seem to soften the affronted look, "Did you have to kill the poor thing, though. You could have always just asked me to put it outside or something."

"I'm not a child, Martin. I can handle spiders on my own." He made a point of not looking at the mess around his feet, "Besides, I thought you might be impressed, me facing my fears and all that."

"You were very brave, I'm sure." Martin giggled, "But you see this? This is what happens when you kill spiders. Disaster."

"We still agree to disagree on spiders, then." 

It was a long standing disagreement of theirs. Martin liked spiders, he always had. Even as a kid he'd just thought they were nice. He could still remember that one book at the library in his home town that he would read over an over again when he was little. It had been what really started his fascination with the things. He'd just never understood why so many people had a problem with them. Jon, on the other hand, had been a full blown arachnophobe when they had first met. Apparently, this opinion also originated from a book in his childhood, though he'd never gone into much detail about it. It was obviously something Jon didn't like to think about, let alone talk about, so Martin had never bothered to push it. He had, however, done his best to try and make Jon a little less fearful of them. He might have been teasing when he'd commented on it, but he actually was impressed at how calm Jon seemed about all this. There was a time when Jon would have been shaking like a leaf being in the same room as a spider, so this was actually a decided improvement form that.

Martin was proud of him, but that still didn't make the broken bookshelf look any less comical. 

"It is not that funny, Martin."

He hadn't even realized he'd started laughing, "I'm sorry, Jon, but yes, it actually is."

Jon was clearly trying to stop himself form laughing as well, keeping that displeased scowl in place. The corners of his mouth betrayed him, straining again his frown, just barely being stopped from turning up into a grin. Martin just leaned in a bumped his shoulder, and the first snort of laughing slipped out. 

"You really did a number in here didn't you? God, Jon, you put a hole in a wall and everything." They both kicked a few more pieces of the wreckage out of the way to get a closer look at the damage to the wall. "It's a good chunk you managed to take out too. I see they spent about as on the drywall as they did on the shelves."

"And Elias is still probably going to get irritated over the repair cost. Can't wait to have that meeting with him."

Martin leaned closer to the hole to get a better look at it, but recoiled when a rotten smell hit him. It wasn't anything he could place, but it was also strangely familiar. Damp and moldy and sour.

"Christ, it smells like something died in ther-"

And the he heard it.

That wet, slimly, squirming sound that he knew all too well at this point. He turned to Jon, and the horrified look in his eyes told him that he had heard it as well. They'd both heard a version of this sound around the office, but it had been months since the last time Martin had heard it this loud. And it only seemed to be getting louder. It almost managed to drown out the sound of Martin's heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He suddenly remembered where he knew that smell from.

They looked back towards the hole, just in time to see the first wave of little silver bodies start to bleed out from it.

"Run." Jon grabbed Martin's arm, yanking him towards the door, "RUN!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh worm?


	23. Unconventional Workplace Hazards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worm shenanigans and caring for each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for blood and injury. It's mostly in one section, so if you don't want that skip the second scene (after the first break, starting at "He could feel the tears in his eyes). There are mentions in the rest of the chapter, but that's the only section that goes into detail with it.  
> I've only done snippets from the Prentiss attack, partly because I just didn't want this to really be too monstery of a fic, and also because I didn't want to just rewrite MAG 38 almost verbatim. Basically, just assume that unless otherwise stated, pretty much the same stuff happens here as does in canon  
> Anyways, sorry that this one took a little longer, I hope you enjoy it!

He was not going to be another damn mystery. Not just another case for some other underpaid research to look through and roll their eyes at.

He knew it was stupid to go back for that tape recorder, he knew the worms were already beginning to flood that part of the archive, but he wanted evidence. If this was it, if this was where he died, people were going to know what happened.

He just needed that tape recorder. Then there would be proof.

Even when he saw the creeping mass of little silver bodies. Even when he felt that horrible burrowing sensation started in his leg, he stayed determined. He needed that tape recorder.

He would not be a mystery.

_They_ would not be a mystery.

* * *

He could feel the tears in his eyes and bile rising in his throat as the corkscrew dug into his leg again. Had they really been that deep? Sasha tried to be carful, she really did, but there was only so steady you could get your hands to be in a situation like this. There was that split second of a hollow feeling in his leg before the skin and muscle began to swell and throb, trying to fill the hole back up. Then it was just pain.

And blood.

In theory he knew how much blood a human body had. But there was a big difference between knowing that as a fact, and seeing all that blood like this. Seeing _your own blood_ like this. Turning your pant leg black as it saturated the fabric, dripping scarlet spots onto the tiles, soaking bright crimson stains into the gauze that's covering the wounds. There was just so much of it. Surly it was too much, he wasn't supposed to loose this much blood. 

Just don't think about the blood.

Too many other things to worry about.

Too many sounds, too many things to look at, too many things to think about.

Close your eyes. Just breath. Focus on something else.

The floor. Solid beneath him, the chill of it creeping into his legs. The documents. They couldn't smell that rotten worm smell in here, just old paper and dust. The wall. Something to lean on, to keep him up.

The hands on him. Big and strong and familiar and safe.

* * *

She wasn't supposed to leave.

He should have stopped her. Held her back somehow. He was her boss, he should have told her not to.

But she had to find Tim. And he couldn't get himself to stop her.

Now they were both going to die. They were _all_ going to die. It was his fault. All of their death his fault, all his-

Breath. Just breath. 

There are arm around him. Think about the arms, just the arms. Soft. Secure. Safe. The only thing that was safe. 

* * *

He couldn't tell if it was his body that was shaking, or the one he was leaning into. Maybe both. Didn't matter. It only made him hold on tighter.

They spoke, but the words were cloudy, they didn't really make sense if he tried to focus on them.

His thoughts, however, were clear and singular, forcing out everything else. Nothing else, just _Martin Martin Martin_.

* * *

Tim and Sasha.

They were standing there, plaster dust still hanging in the air around them.

They were _alive_.

There were tunnels, though that wall. No clue where they went or what they would lead them to. But it was something. And that's more than could be said about this room.

* * *

He knew it had been hopeless. He knew those tunnels had been a long shot. Now Tim and Sasha were lost again. Split off down some fork in the labyrinth of tunnels. And he was here. And _she_ was staring back at him.

Her face would be burned into his mind for the rest of his life. And for that he was almost grateful that that wasn't likely to be much longer.

They were pouring out of her, those squirming, shining little things. Moving towards him like a flood, leaping up and digging into his skin. The burn of them returned, no longer just in his leg, but peppering across his arms, face, torso. 

He stood between them and Martin. He knew it was pointless, but he wasn't just going to let them have him. 

This would be how they died.

He felt that whir of the tape recorder in his hand.

Everything went dark.

* * *

Jon's eyes flew open, a panicked gasp escaping his chest as he woke. He took a second to assess his surroundings, his heartbeat finally starting to settle as they came into focus. Sunlight filtered in through the curtains, illuminating the familiar shapes of his bedroom. He still wasn't quite used to being jolted awake by those memories playing out in his dream, yet, though he knew it was going to take longer than two weeks for that. Dreams of spiders would still sometimes leave him waking up in a cold sweat, and that was decades ago.

He stretched out stiff muscles as he sat up, careful not to put too much strain on any of the scabs, and took another look around the room. It was just as it had been when he'd gone to sleep the night before. That is, except for the empty spot on the bed next to him. There was nothing wrong with that, he knew, nothing to worry about. He was just somewhere else in the flat, Jon knew that. Still, the anxious thump thump thump in his chest was gradually starting to creep back. Too many memories of worms, and hotel rooms, and tunnels, and days without hearing from him, and a woman with a red dress and holes in her skin.

Pushing himself up off the bed, he did his best to steady himself where he stood. His legs protested, with still half asleep limbs wobbling and still healing wounds making themselves known. He stumbled over to the wall by the door, gripping to it as him began to move slowly down the hall. It was sore to walk, but he just had to see him, then he could relax.

The smell and sound of something frying caught his attention, so he made his way towards the kitchen. As he got closer he could hear quiet humming and his breathing felt a little easier. Finally rounding the corner he saw Martin standing in front of the stove, and the tightness in his chest fades away. Along with the last of his adrenaline rush, which was quickly replaced with the sensation of shooting pain throbbing through his leg. One bad stabbing pulse of it buckled his knees, sending him tumbling forward, and he still wasn't quite solid enough on his feet to catch himself.

Before he could hit the floor, something caught him under the arms, hauling him back upright.

"Christ, Jon." Martin wrapped his arms around his chest, "What are you doing up? I thought you were still asleep."

Jon let himself be guided over to sit in one of the chairs around their tiny dining table, "I, um, I just woke up."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't wake you, did I? I wanted to let you sleep-"

"No no, don't worry, it wasn't you." Jon replied, his voice still a little weak. Martin gave him a sympathetic smile. It wasn't hard for him to guess what had woken Jon. They'd both dealt with the bad dreams a few times since the attack. "What time is it anyway?"

"Half past nine. I was just making some breakfast, do you want some?" Martin asked, turning back to the pan on the stove.

"That would be lovely, thank you." There was something comforting about this, Jon thought. Sitting in his kitchen, watching his husband cook, comfortable silence filling the room. It all just seemed so normal, so simple. It was something they didn't get a lot of these days. Even now he could be pulled out of the moment if he looked to long at the gallery of scabs and bruises that adorned Martin's skin. He didn't let himself linger on any of them too long. Instead, he let himself bask in the domesticity of this morning. If moments like these were going to be rare in his life now, he was going to savor every since one he could.

A minute later a plate and a mug of tea were set down in front of him, and after planting a kiss on top of Jon's head, Martin sat down across from him. Jon wrapped his hands around the mug, the warmth of it melting away those last threads of anxiety tugging at his mind.

Setting his own mug down, Martin caught Jon's eyes, "So, how are you feeling today? Did you get enough sleep?"

"Yes, Martin, I got enough sleep." Jon droned fondly. He was pretty sure he'd been asked that every morning since they'd been on leave, "I think it would be hard not to, seeing as you've made it your mission to get me to rest as much as I possibly can."

Martin rolled his eyes affectionately, "Well maybe if _someone_ wasn't so determined to push themselves while they're still healing, I might not have to fuss over them so much."

"Honestly, I'm fine."

"Ah, so I see we're ignoring how you nearly fell flat on your face a second ago."

Jon pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing slightly, "Alright, fair enough. But both of us were told to rest, and you're still up and doing thing."

"Yeah, well, things still need to be done, and I'm not the one who had a fucking corkscrew stabbed into their leg." He said in a half hearted laugh. With a sigh, Martin's eyes drifted down to his plate, and his face got a touch more serious, "Your injuries are worse than mine, Jon, and I just want to make sure you're ok."

A twinge of guilt tugged at Jon's chest. He knew how much Martin cared. How more than anything, Martin just wanted him to be alright. And he also knew how Martin would run himself into the ground to make sure of it. Jon had always admired Martin's willingness to take care of other people, but too often he'd seen Martin take on that role of caretaker at his own expense. Maybe Jon had ended up with the worst of the damage from the worms, but that didn't mean that he was the only one who still needed time to heal. 

Looking across the table, Jon watched Martin for a moment. He might not like sitting around the flat doing nothing, but he'd be damned if he was the reason Martin didn't get the rest he deserved.

"You're right. I need to give myself time to heal properly. I can't rush that. So, you know what, after this, I'll go lay down for a bit."

Martin glanced up from his food, a warm smile on his face, "I think that's a good-"

"On one condition."

There was a pause as Martin sat up straighter, looking noticeably apprehensive, "Oh?"

Leaning his elbows on the table and lacing his hands together, Jon put on the most serious face he could manage, "I will got lay down, but, only if you do too."

Another pause, though this one only last a second before Martin lets out a breathy laugh. The corners of his mouth turn up into a smile that puts his dimples on full display. "You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Sims, but I think I can agree to those terms."

They finished off the last of their breakfast, and Martin grabbed the dishes to put them in the sink. As he does, Jon braced himself on the table to push himself up. His legs, still protesting the earlier movement, sent another sharp pain through him when he gets himself standing. He winces at it, trying to keep himself quite, but a sigh from across the kitchen tells him that he wasn't quite quiet enough. A steadying hand lands on Jon's arm. Martin leads him a few steps away from the table, keeping a gentle hold on him for support. Once they reach the middle of the kitchen, Martin stopped, and Jon looked up just in time to see that devilish grin before it ducked down. Wrapping his arms around Jon, Martin hoists him up onto his shoulder in a fireman's carry. The initial shock of being lifted elicited a small yelp from Jon, but that quickly dissolved into a fit of laughter as he's carried back down the hall. 

Jon was plopped onto the bed unceremoniously, and Martin quickly joined him on the other side. An arm was slipped around Jon' to pull him in close, and Jon turned onto his side, resting he head on Martin's shoulder and splaying a hand across his chest.

"That's certainly a way to keep me from exerting myself."

"We can't have you hurting your leg, now can we?" 

Late morning sunlight shone in through the window, casting everything in a warm glow. The August heat was also beginning to creep in, threatening to make this position too warm to be comfortable, but neither of them seemed to care. The months of forced distance form working in the archive had left them both craving this.

Easy. That was the word Jon decided described it best. It was easy to be with Martin like this. It always had been. Easy to talk to him, easy to fit him into his life, easy to build a life with him. It was easy to love Martin. 

There was a soft pull on Jon's hair as Martin ran his fingers through it, "Comfortable?"

"Yes, very. Thank you." Jon tipped his head up to kiss the soft junction between Martin's neck and jaw, "And you?"

"Yeah." Martin hummed, audibly smiling.

Jon sighed contentedly, letting his eyes drift shut, "Good. I think we both needed this."

"Yeah...yeah I think you're right." Martin took a deep breath, and Jon could feel his body go limp around him as he exhaled, "Maybe I haven't quite been practicing what I preach."

"No, you haven't."

"I know, I know." Martin groaned, "It's just...It makes me feel better when I take care of you. That way I know you're ok."

The earlier guilt panged in Jon's head again. "I'm sorry. I haven't exactly been making that easy for you have I."

The arm around Jon tightened, pulling him in even closer, "Hey, it's alright. This isn't any easier for you. I know you don't like not having something to do."

"It's...frustrating, yes. I'm trying. I just hate being idle. I feel like I need to be doing _something_. Especially with...everything that's happened at the institute, I feel like I should be looking for answers, or...or doing something about it. And I know what you're going to say, 'it's not my job to fix this', I know, you're right. But there's just so much happening. It feels wrong doing nothing. It's not as if I _want_ to go back to work, but...I don't know what to do with myself."

The room went quiet, save for the fan humming away in the corner. Jon began to worry that he'd said something wrong, until he heard Martin a small chuckle reverberate through Martin's chest.

Martin gave him a soft shake, "What, is it really that boring being stuck here with me?"

"That's not what I mean." Jon sighed, though he couldn't stop from a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He curled in closer to Martin's side, "No, being here with you has been...it's been wonderful, honestly."

"Really?"

Jon nodded in response

"Has been nice, hasn't it? Two whole weeks where we haven't had to dance around each other. When was the last time we've had that?"

"Not for a long time." Jon smoothed his hand back and forth over the soft fabric of Martin's t-shirt, admiring the shapes of the body that could be felt beneath it, "I've missed this."

"Me too. It can be a little boring sitting around most of the day, but I really can't complain about getting to kiss you without worrying someone will see me." To prove his point, Martin pressed a kiss onto Jon's forehead. Before he could turn his head back, Jon caught Martin's face with his hand, pushing himself up so their lips could meet. He couldn't help but agree with Martin, getting to kiss his husband whenever he felt like it certainly was a benefit of this time off. 

The kiss broke eventually, Jon now mostly on top of Martin. A hand came up to tenderly brush a few dangling curls of hair behind Jon's ear, then trace a line along his jaw. Jon leaned his cheek into Martin's palm, savoring the feeling.

"God I love you so much." Martin whispered, just loud enough for Jon to hear it, "And I hate that I have to pretend like I don't."

"I do too. I wish we didn't have to."

Martin's face fell slightly, his eyes pulling shut as he took a deep breath. His eyes were glassy when he opened them again, "When I came to, after the attack when we were with the paramedics, I was _so_ close to just...saying fuck it, and forgetting about all that. I can't tell you how hard it was to keep the act up. All I wanted to do was run to you and hold you and make sure you were ok. They might have even let me over to you if I'd just told them that you were my husband. But I _couldn't_ and I _hated_ it so much. I was terrified that I'd lost you and all I could do was sit there pretend like...like..." His words trailed off in shaking breaths.

There was a new heaviness twisting in Jon's chest. He knew exactly what Martin had been talking about, since he'd felt much the same after the attack. That desperation he'd felt after he'd woken up in the ambulance had been on his mind these past two weeks. That panic at the idea that he might have lost Martin, and the pain of holding himself back from him. Something uneasy in his mind told him that the Prentiss incident wasn't going to be the last thing of it's kind to happen to them, and he really wasn't sure he'd be able to stand feeling like that a second time.

"It's alright, Martin. I'm here." Jon leaned in closer, so their foreheads brushed against each other, "I'm right here. We're alright."

"Yeah...yeah," Martin's breathing evened out again, "We're ok. And hey, we still have another two weeks before we go back, so at least we have a bit more time together."

"Yes. Two more weeks." Saying it outload, it sounded like such a small amount of time. It didn't sound like enough. Just then, an idea started to take shape in Jon's mind, "Martin."

Martin shifted under him, so that they could look at each other more comfortably, "Yes?"

"I think..." Jon hesitated. There were so many things running through his head, it was hard to get his thoughts together enough to know what he actually wanted to say next. Maybe this was a terrible idea, maybe he shouldn't say it. But when he looked at Martin, and saw those still too tired eyes looking back at him, saw the scars that were taking shape on the man he loved, he decided it was worth a shot. "I think we should talk about it...about the institute...about what we want to do next."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though I don't believe in a writer spoon feeding their audience everything, I also have a huge fear of being misunderstood, so I'm just gonna state something outright; None of the main archive crew got NotThem-ed. I put that "Everyone Live/No Ones Dies" tag and I am sticking to it. All of them, including Sasha made it out ok (or at least as ok as you can be after corruption worm attack).  
> Welp, we got one more plot chapter left, then just the epilogue. Let's do this, y'all. I'm going to try and get the next one out a bit quicker, but I'm a week into my new semester and somehow already behind on work (seriously, it's only been a week how am I already exhausted), so it might be another wait, sorry.


	24. There's Something We Need To Tell You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lads have a confession to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being so much longer than I expected aaaaaaaaaaah. Well, here we are, almost at the very end, just one chapter left. Then I'm going to have to find something new to use to procrastinate from doing my lab reports haha.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

"Are you guys sure about this?"

Sasha's voice cut through the silence of the room, drawing everyone's attention away form the clock on the wall. Most of the last hour had been spent like this, sitting around the assistance office, just watching the time pass by, only a few fleeting words shared between them. It probably wasn't helping with the anxiety levels of the room, but they hadn't been able to get any work done anyway.

"Y-yes...yes, we're sure." Jon readjusting slightly where he sat atop Martin's desk so he could sit up a little straighter. His eyes drifted down to his lap, where he held Martin's hand tightly in his, "We've discussed this at length, and we agree, this is something we need to do."

"But you could lose-"

"We know, Sasha." Martin sighed, "Trust me, we talked about that. We know. And honestly? We don't really care anymore. After everything that's happened...we just don't. That's why we finally decided to do this. Because if it goes well, that's great, we'll have one less thing keeping us up at night. And if it goes badly, tough."

Jon kept his gaze on his and Martin's hands, focusing on the grounding feeling of them, "We know that this is a big risk, but it's one we have to take."

"But if it does go bad, are you two, you know, are you going to be ok?" Tim asked them, concern clear on his face.

"I think so, yes." Jon nodded, though it lacked confidence, "We looked into it, and we should have enough savings to last us a month, possibly longer if we're careful. We've also both been looking into...backup plans. Neither of us have submitted applications or anything, but we thought that that month would give us time to figure out what to do next."

Tim nodded, the worry not quite leaving his eyes, "Well, if you ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask. Seriously, whatever it is, I'm more than happy to help."

"Yeah, if you need anything for either of us, let us know. We're here for you, whatever happens." Sasha added.

Looking between the two of them, a new emotion joined the nervousness twisting around inside him. Something much warmer, more affectionate. "T-thank you. Both of you. We appreciate the offer. Hopefully it won't come to that, but if...let's be honest, it most likely will, so...I...thank you."

They flashed a somber smile towards them. Prentiss might have been the thing that pushed the over the edge, but Jon knew they wouldn't have been able to do any of this without Tim and Sasha. It all just seemed a lot more manageable with people they knew were there to support them.

The four of them all turned their attention back to the clock, silence falling back over them. Still twenty minutes until they were supposed to be upstairs. Maybe they should have been going over what they wanted to say, but it felt so much easier to just sit there, let his mind wander as he watched the time. The sound of the seconds ticking by echoed in Jon's ears like drums.

After a few minutes of quite, dull laugh slipped out of Jon, which made the others turn towards him.

Martin gave his hand a squeeze, "What is it?"

"No, it's...I thought of something." He shook his head, a tired, half smile on his face, "It's stupid, but I realized, if this goes badly for us, it may actually work out well for you, Sasha."

"Me? Why?" She cried, taken aback.

"Well, because if it goes badly for us," Jon looked back over his shoulder to his office door, his eyes lingering on the plaque next to it that read _Head Archivist_ , "You'll hopefully be getting a promotion."

* * *

Sitting outside Elias's office turned out to be even worse than sitting in the archive. At least down there, there weren't any of those damn portraits staring at them. And the other employees weren't helping the situation either. They weren't even standing that close to each other as they'd walk through the halls, but it had still as if anyone who had given them as much as a sideways glance had known something. The look Rosie had given them alone could have convinced them that they'd already been found out.

Elias's voice could just be heard past the heavy door. Had to be another meeting before them, Jon decided, although he couldn't quite make out the words. He didn't sound particularly happy, whatever he might have been saying. The pit in Jon's stomach grew exponentially the longer he listened.

He looked over to Martin, who didn't seem to be faring much better. His face was tight, and he was nervously fiddling with the edge of his jumper, much the same way Jon had just been doing with his hair. Jon reached out an placed a hand on his arm to get his attention.

"You don't have to do this, if you don't want to." Jon said in a whisper, "I can talk to him by myself. You don't need to be there if that would make you more comfortable."

Martin shook his head, place his own hand over Jon's, "I'm not just going to leave you to do this on your own, Jon. This has to do with both of us, so I want to be there."

"That's fair. I just thought...well I-I just didn't want him to upset you, or anything."

"Don't worry, I'll be alright. I know that he'd probably going to yell or something, so I've been psyching myself up for this since we started talking about this. I'm ready for him." Martin gave Jon's hand a reassuring squeeze, "We've got this."

Just as Jon opened his mouth to respond, the door swung open. They ripped their hands away from each other's, hoping that Elias hadn't noticed as he stepped through to greet them.

"Apologies for keeping you waiting. Phone call went longer than expected, you know how these things are. Now, please, come in." Elias waved them in, and they wordlessly followed him.

Jon had gotten very familiar with Elias's office over the last year, with all the meetings he'd been dragged to. Especially over the past few months. That, however, had not made it any less intimidating. It invoked that same inexplicable sensation of being watched that the rest of the institute did, but it felt so much worse in here. Jon had never been able to figure out if it was just the oversized portrait of Jonah Magnus looming over them, or the way the room seemed to almost frame Elias. Something about the way the room was set up and where chairs were placed made it so that you were always aware of Elias, and aware of him looking back at you. It was as if no matter how hard you tried there was nowhere in the room that you could hide yourself form his scrutiny. 

And that awful damp chill was back again. He really wished Elias would get the air conditioning in here fixed.

As they took their seats across from him, Elias shone them one of his famously disingenuous grins. "So, what brings you two in today? From the email you sent me, it sounded quite urgent."

"Yes. Yes, I believe it is urgent." Jon made a conscious effort to maintain eye contact with Elias. His heart might have been beating in double time, but he refused to let Elias break his resolve today.

"Hmm. Seeing as you're both here, I would assume this has to do with both of you. I do hope this isn't to do with any sort of workplace dispute. Last I understood, the two of you had worked out your differences." 

"This isn't about a workplace dispute." Jon assured him, "No, this, um, this is about something else. You see, we haven't been entirely...forthcoming with you."

"Oh?" Any of Elias's remaining attempt at looking friendly quickly faded, his face going ice cold in a second, "I must say, that is disappointing to hear. I would hope that as my employees you would be honest with me. So what exactly is it that you've been keeping from me, if you don't mind my asking, since I assume that is what this meeting is actually about."

This was it. No turning back. The words sat heavy in Jon's throat, his mouth not wanting to move, but he was committed. He took a deep breath to steady himself, locked eyes with Elias, and said it.

"We're married, Elias. Martin and I. We've been married since 2014. And we've been in a relationship since 2010, before either of us actually started working here at the institute. When I first applied to work in research, I wasn't aware of the policy on employee fraternization, but once I found out about it I had already been hired, and Martin had been working here for well over a year, and neither of us were interested in trying to find a new job. We didn't feel it was an issue when we worked in different departments, so long as we kept our distance. Since we've been working in the archives, however, we haven't been able to avoid each other, and so we've been...hiding the nature of our relationship. Both to our coworkers and to yourself. I recognize that not only is this in direct violation of institute policy, but it is also incredibly unprofessional. I'll also admit that we did not make the most responsible in regards to this issue. I will not, however, apologies for my actions. My personal life is my business, and frankly Elias, as long as it does not effect work performance, I don't believe that it is any of the institutes concern. Martin and I have both worked here for years, including a year working together in the same department, and never once has our relationship hindered our ability to work effectively. If you are still going to fire us, so be it. We've broken institute policy, and likely also your trust, so I understand if you feel that our termination is the most appropriate action to take, but we just can't keep this act up any longer. Not after what's happened in the archive. We're done with the secrets. So...yes...I believe that's it. We're married. Do with that what you will, I guess."

The room was deafeningly silence. At some point during his speech either Jon had grabbed Martin's hand, or Martin had taken hold of his, and now that grip they had on each other was the only thing keeping them grounded while they waited for their answer. Elias was staring at them with those cold green eyes that seemed to see down to your very soul. His face was unreadable, just a blank, neutral expression that somehow still managed to strike fear into them.

After what felt like an eternity, Elias moved slightly, taking a breath and preparing to speak. Jon and Martin tightened their hold on one another, bracing themselves for whatever came next.

"I already knew that."

Those four little words sucked every last bit of air out of that office. They hit them like a punch to the gut, knocking a gasp out of both of them. Jon was frozen in place, even his thoughts refusing to move as he tried to comprehend that simple little statement. 

"...What?" Martin managed to squeak out in a shaky voice.

"I was already aware that you were married to each other." Elias stated plainly, his face remaining painfully impassive.

Martin's face, on the other hand, was beginning to scrunch up in confusion, "So you knew? This whole time?"

"As your employer, I am privy to certain personal information." Elias informed them, "Jon has had 'Martin Blackwood' listed as his emergency contact since he was first hired, and around that same time Martin, you changed your emergency contact to one 'Jonathan Sims'. Then there was the fact that since 2012 you two have had the same home address in our records. And of course I was aware of both of your marital statuses, so the rest wasn't hard to...piece together."

"And y-you...haven't...d-done anything about it?" Jon stammered out slowly.

"No." Elias said completely matter-of-factly, "It's like you said, Jon, prior to your transfer to the archive, you two hardly interacted here, so I was able to look the other way. And now that you are down in the archive, your relationship has proven to not be a detriment, and the work you're doing now is too important for me to worry about technicalities. If it was causing problems, obviously I would have taken action then, but since it isn't, I decided it was best to let sleeping dogs lie."

"But you-"

"Jon." Finally a bite entered Elias's words, making Jon freeze up again, "I believe that I have been quite generous allowing the two of you to carry on like this, so if I were you, I would be grateful and not question things. I'm allowing you to keep your jobs, I think that should be enough for you."

Jon nodded, "Y-yes. Of course, Elias."

The chilly smile returned to Elias's face, "Good. Now, if that is all you needed to discuss, I believe that we have covered it. So unless there is something else you wanted to talk to me about, you can see yourselves out when you're ready."

Jon and Martin exchanged a look, before mumbling quick thank you's and standing. Everything that had just happened felt so unreal to them, it was as if they were floating as they made their way to the door.

"Oh, one last thing, actually." Elias called to them just before they grabbed the doorknob, "Though I won't make any attempts to interfere with your personal affairs, I do want to remind you that I do still expect you to remain professional while you are here. The Magnus Institute has a reputation to maintain, and I would prefer to not have anything alter this reputation. And I would also prefer to not have a precedence set amongst the rest of the institute employees. So, I don't want to dictate how you conduct yourselves, but may I suggest that perhaps you refrain from... _advertising_ your relationship, shall we say. I just think it would be in everyone's best interest." His smile twisted up again, eyes squinting to emphasize the condescension in his voice. 

Jon felt himself shrink. He knew that that was less of a suggestion than it was a threat, and he had a creeping suspicion that he didn't want to find out what consequence might come from it. 

"I u-understand. That shouldn't be a problem. Thank you again for...this."

Elias nodded quickly, turning back to his work, "Yes, well, now that that is sorted, I won't keep you any longer. Good day, gentlemen."

There was a tug on Jon's arm as Martin pulled him out the door, his feet moving on instinct more than by his own will. Martin shut the door quickly behind them, desperately trying to put as much between Elias and themselves as he could. Moving down the halls the weight of Elias's eyes on them began to fade, and his thoughts began to organize themselves again.

"Well..." He breathed in a weak voice.

Martin turned to him, waiting for what he was going to say next. There were a thousand things Jon could think of to say, but he settled on the one that seemed to most accurately capture what had just happened.

"Fuck."

* * *

As the door shut, Elias’s attention was pulled to the sound of footsteps filling his office. It seemed he hadn’t been lucky enough to have actually been left alone.

Peter stepped out form his Lonely hiding place and settled down into one of the chairs that had just been vacated. “Well that certainly was something.”

Elias just glared at him. Apparently, he had not even been spared the decency of privacy during that meeting. And he was not in the mood to consider the irony of Peter spying on him while he was wanted nothing more than to be alone.

“Come on, Elias, _you_ of all people don’t have anything to say? You usually love the sound of your own voice.”

“Peter, what are you still doing here?” Elias snapped, “I’m busy.”

“What, are you not going to tell me more about how _swimmingly_ your little Corruption incident went? Or maybe how well your new Archivist is working out?”

It was moments like these that Elias truly hated the protection the Lonely gave Peter from his own powers. Even his most pointed glared wasn’t doing much to dissuade the overly pleased grin splitting Peter’s face.

“It’s really incredible how much one little loss can throw you off.” Peter tutted, “Is the Ceaseless Watcher really that much worse off without that extra little morsel of fear to feed it. You yourself told me it was just a bit of fun and you were hardly getting anything out of it.”

“I also told you how important it is that those four don’t get too comfortable.” He hissed, “I hoped that my intervening might help, or maybe the Prentiss attack, but now look at them. They’re closer than ever, supporting each other and working together. And, god, Jon is acting… _confident_. It’s awful.”

The look on Peter’s face shifted. Less outwardly enjoying himself, but still irritatingly smug, “So…what you’re telling is that what the problem actually is…is that they’re getting too close.”

The realization of where this was going hit Elias. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, “Peter, don’t.”

“You know-“

“Peter.”

“I did offer to help-“

“Please shut up.”

“But someone decided they were too proud to take the offer. Something about ‘if I needed your help, I’d ask for it’, does that sound familiar?”

Elias paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes bitterly, “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“I have had to listening to you talk about your little archive soup opera for the last year.” Peter said, his voice full of satisfaction, “I am going to _savour_ this.”

* * *

After the last time they had gone to a pub a few months back, it had been unanimous to take Sasha’s suggestion to just go to one of their flats when they spent time together outside work. With the afternoon they’d had, all of them were eager to have a chance to talk about it. That had ended up being one of the nice things about not going to the pub anymore, they'd found. Not only did they not have to deal with the noise and distraction of other people, but when it was just the four of them sat around Jon and Martin’s living room, they also didn’t have to worry about the wrong person overhearing them. This was especially convenient when they wanted to gossip about their boss.

Martin set his glass down on the table with a heavy clunk, "Maybe he'd just homophobic."

Tim settled back into the armchair he was seated on, brow quirked at Martin, "Really? I could have sworn someone told me he was gay."

"That doesn't necessarily exclude him from being homophobic." Jon noted with a shrug. Tim stopped for a second to consider this, eventually giving a conceding nod.

"Ah, but if he was homophobic, wouldn't he just fire you?" Sasha suggested, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. She did seem to love challenging their ideas like this.

"No, because he doesn't want to get slapped with discrimination allegations.” Martin said with a shake of his head. He’d considered this before, when he’d first thought about the subject, so he was more than happy to share his ideas on the matter, “If he fires us, we could call him out for being homophobic and we could hold it against him. If he keeps us but tells us not to let other people know, we don't have nearly as good a case against him. I mean, he told us this as all about maintaining the institutes image, so I can't imagine he would want to risk being labeled a bigot."

Sasha gave a satisfied grin as she thought it over, "Hmm, that’s a good point. Maybe he is a homophobe after all."

"I mean, he's a Tory," Jon scoffed with obvious distain, "Would you really be that shocked if he was."

"I wonder if that's why we all ended up in the archives.” Sasha laughed, rolling her eyes, “Send all the queer people down to the basement where no one can see them." The rest of them joined her with a few derisive laughs at the idea.

Tim made a short noise as he down a few snacks, "See, I thought maybe it was because he's getting divorced. Doesn't want you two going around flaunting a happy marriage while his is falling apart."

Sasha whirled her head to look at him, her hair swinging haphazardly with her, and shot him a confused look, "Wait, divorced? I heard that he's engaged."

"What? No, I'm certain that on Monday Hannah told me he was getting divorced again." Tim insisted.

"Well, I was just talking to David on Wednesday and he said that Elias just got engaged."

There was a light tapping on Martin’s chest, and looked to see Jon leaning into him. He tilted his head up towards him, though he kept his eyes on Tim and Sasha as they squabbled.

"Elias is in a relationship?" He asked under his break, not bothering to hide the disbelief in his voice.

"No one actually knows for sure; the stories change all the time.” Martin giggled, tipping his head close to Jon’s ear so he could keep his voice quiet. He didn’t want to risk disturbing the debate on the other end of the table. It was far too entertaining to interrupt, “Seriously, one week someone tells you that he's gotten divorced, next week he's remarried, and the week after that the rumor is he's having an affair with one of the institutes benefactors. And then you'll talk to someone who says it's all completely made up and that Elias has never cared for another human being in his life. It's hard to keep up with it sometimes." 

“Good Lord. Where do people even get these stories from.”

“I…I’m not actually sure. I’ve never bothered to ask.”

The two of them turned their full attention back to Tim and Sasha. It seemed their argument had evolved from who’s story was more up to date to who the better researcher was. The occasional piece of trash talk was now also being thrown into the fray, though there was no malice to any of it. Tim and Sasha did this on a regular basis, going toe to toe over some inconsequential topic, trying to find a way to get an upper hand on the other. More often than not they would call it a draw, either compromising on the point or simply agreeing to disagree. It was just one of their many things. Neither Jon nor Martin had ever bothered to question them about it. After all, it was much more fun to sit back and watch.

Eventually the debate subsided, and the night continued on as it usually did. Stories and laughter and gossip being shared amongst them. It still amazed Martin sometimes that this was now such a normal part of his life. Until he’d met Jon he hadn’t had much in the way of a social life, mainly just coworkers who he got along well with, but never actually talked to once he was off the clock. Now here he was, sitting around, having a wonderful night with his husband and two of the best friends he’d ever had. People who liked him, who loved him, who supported him, and chose to spend time with him. Sure, his life had taken some strange and frankly unfortunate turns since he’d first joined the institute, but right now, despite all those things, he was just thankful for everything good that had come from taking that first job.

The conversation bounced around from topic to topic, taking the occasional break for a moment of comfortable silence. They all seemed happy just to be able to spend time with each other, allowing the evening to drag on much longer than they normally would. At one point Sasha and Tim wandered off to the kitchen to grab another glass of water, and Martin found himself alone with Jon.

“So,” Martin began quietly, “Today sure was something.”

Jon leaned heavily into his side, a breath of a laugh escaping him, “Yes, it certainly was.”

Martin looked down at Jon. He’d pulled himself in close, letting his head rest against Martin’s shoulder, his eyes drifting shut and his face utterly content. A wave of affection washed over Martin as he let himself admire him.

“Jon.”

Jon gave a hum as he opened his eyes and focused them on Martin.

He sat up straighter, with Jon following his lead, repositioning himself so he wasn’t pressed quite as far into Martin's side. Martin smiled down at him, “I propose a toast.”

“A toast?”

“Yes.” Martin grabbed his cup up off the table, holding it up “Here’s to not having to look for new jobs.”

Jon looked at him for a second as he processed Martin’s words, before a smile bloomed on his face and his shoulder shook with soft laughter. Grabbing his own glass, Jon held it towards Martin. He replied in a hushed, loving voice, “To not looking for new jobs.”

Their glasses touched together with a ring. They set the glasses back down on the table after they’d both taken a sip, and their eyes drifted back to lock on the other. Jon moved forward slightly, and Martin was more than happy to lean in the last bit of distance so that he could kiss his husband. And for the first time in a year, he couldn’t care less who saw them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY, everyone is happy (except for Elias, but he deserves it).  
> So, now that this coming to a close, I think I want to keep trying to do fanfiction. It's been really fun, and even though I know I have plenty of space to improve, you guys have just been so lovely in the comments and such. I still have lots of supplemental fluff things I want to write (I've kinda been sidelining that while I try to get this done), and I have a few other ideas I'm considering (most of them not related to this specific AU). As I think I've said before here, if any of you have any idea's you'd like me to do, feel free to comment them or send me an ask on Tumblr (I'm celticdragonmaster on there), and though I can't promise I'll get to them quickly, I will definitely try to get them done to the best of my abilities.  
> Hope you liked the chapter, and I hope you've all been doing well. I shall talk to you again in the Epilogue!


	25. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months after Prentiss, working at the Magnus Institute is still terrible, but it certainly could be worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks :) Thank you all so much for reading, and for all the support while I was writing this. It was so much fun to do and I have been so unbelievably happy I am that people have been enjoying this. I really can't tell you how much I appreciate all the love. I seriously started this on a whim because I had a silly idea stuck in my head and never expected it to get this long or have this many people read it. Thank you all <3

"Sasha, would you please try and talk some sense into him." Martin cried out, his elbows propped up on his desk and his face buried in his hands. 

Swiveling in her desk chair to face them properly, Sasha's hands flew up, her eyes blown wide. She had obviously not expected to get dragged back into this debate, "Whoa, whoa, why the hell am I suddenly involved in this?"

"Because you worked in artifact storage." Martin explained, "You're the only one of us with any kind of experience with these things, so that makes you the expert here."

"I only worked there for a few months!"

"That's still more than the rest of us!"

With a sigh, Sasha turned to Jon, looking apologetic, "He does have a point, Jon. Your idea doesn't exactly sound...safe."

"Ha!" Martin exclaimed triumphantly. 

Jon's face scrunched, his lips tightly pursed as he looked between Martin and Sasha. Frustration bubbled up in him as he began to wave the files in his hand at the two of them, "I can't just do nothing about this."

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Martin let out the kind of sigh that seemed to scream _you're impossible_. It was one Jon was used to hearing followed by a snarky comment regarding his stubbornness. When Martin looked back to him, he spoke in as calm and collected a voice as he could manage, "Yes, I understand that, but I just think there might be a better way to handle this. Maybe one that doesn't involve an _axe_."

"Well what do you suggest we do?" 

The sound of the door creaking open cut through the bickering. Tim was standing in the doorway, having just returned from break, with a look of utter confusion at the current tension in the room.

"Wait, what'd I miss?"

"Jon wants to smash that spooky table that came in with an axe." Sasha responded plainly.

"Oh, fun." Tim laughed as he sat down.

" _No!_ Not fun. Bad idea." Martin interjected adamantly. 

Jon sighed, rolling his eyes. He realized that it really didn't sound like the best plan, especially the when they phrased it like _that_ , but what else what he supposed to do? This could be a serious problem for the institute, and he felt as though all the others had done so far was shoot down his plan. 

Tim spoke up again, the earlier confusion still in his voice, "I'm sorry, I'm really out of the loop here; what's going on with the table?"

All eyes turned to Jon. He sighed, reluctant to launch back into this explanation again, unsure of how Tim was going to react, "I...I think it did something to Rosie."

"Rosie?"

"It's, um, it's hard to explain, but..." Jon paused, thinking of what he wanted to say next. Looking at Tim, he couldn't quite place if the expression he had was just pure confusion, or if there was some doubt mixed in there. Maybe what he was saying did sound crazy, but he just wished that the others would believe him on this, even just a little. Taking a deep breath, he started from the beginning, "Someone came in to give a statement recently; she had given another statement a while back...you might have actually met her last time. Melanie King?"

"Melanie King?" Tim pondered the name for a second, "Oh! Is she's one with the blue hair that we had to talk down from breaking your nose a while back?"

"Yes, exactly. She made a strange comment about Rosie when she was here last, and it set me onto these statements." Handing the files in his hand over to Tim, he watched as Tim began to flip through them, "I think the same thing that happened to the people in these statements happened to Rosie, and I think that table. I recognize how this might sound, that I probably seem like I'm being paranoid because one little comment, but with all the weird stuff that's been happening here since the Prentiss attack...it's not completely outside the realm of possibility, right? I...I just need you to trust me on this, please, I-"

"Jon." Martin reached out and grabbed his wrist, breaking him from his rambling, "I do trust you. We all do. But I think I speak for all of us when I say that I would really prefer you not doing something that might get you killed. That's why I keep shooting down your plan. It's not that we don't trust you, Jon, we just don't want you rush into something that is probably very, very dangerous. From what you told Sasha and I, it sounds like there's a pretty good case for whatever happened with Rosie, and I get there's some kind of connection between whatever monster this is and that table, but how much do we really know about the table? I think we ought to find out everything we can about it before we just go up to artifact storage and destroy the damn thing."

"Yeah, Jon, the stuff in artifacts storage is no joke. You really shouldn't go and mess with that stuff without having a good idea of what they are." Sasha continued, "There's got to be more information on that table somewhere. Hell, there's probably stuff on the table somewhere in the archive, we just need to find it."

"And if we are dealing with the _thing_ that's in these statements, we need to be prepared. We should do more research into it as well." Tim added.

Jon stared at them for a moment, his mouth feeling reluctant to form words, "Yes, that, um, I think y-you all might have a point." 

"I know this is stressful." Martin said gently, giving Jon's wrist a squeeze, "God, trust me, I'm not exactly thrilled about the idea of another monster in the archive. But you need to remember that we're all here to help you. You don't need to rush into things with the first plan you come up with. You can talk to us, and we can figure things out together. I mean, we're you assistants after all. We're here to assist."

"That's...that's very true." His head no long swimming with anxiety, Jon could feel a spark of embarrassment growing in his chest, "I guess I did...overreact to the situation. I might have acted a bit rashly. I-I'm sorry for arguing over it."

"It's alright." Martin smiled, "Just don't go and get eaten by some identity stealing monster, please."

Jon grinned back at him, "Yes, I think I would prefer if I avoided that as well."

Clearing her throat, Sasha called the attention back to her, "So, not to start sounding like the paranoid one here, but given we're thinking this thing is _in_ the institute, here probably isn't the best place to be talking about it. Maybe we can all try and do some digging and go over what when found after work on Friday?"

"That's a good point, Sasha. We probably shouldn't be discussing this where she might hear us." Jon agreed. There was a beat before he started slightly, turning back to her, "Oh, but not this Friday. Martin and I can't join you and Tim this Friday."

"Oh yeah, that's right. You two have those big plans of your Friday." Tim said with a knowing smirk on his face.

Sighing heavily, Jon ran a hand through his hair, "Yes, indeed we do. The emails have made absolute sure that I don't forget that."

* * *

The night was turning out to be just about as boring as Martin had suspected it would be. He'd never been to one of these receptions before, but pretty much exactly how it had been described to him; lots of stuffy looking old men in expensive suits, lots of tired academics clearly wishing they didn't have to kiss ass for funding. Supposedly these things were supposed to be an opportunity for institute benefactors to mingle with the staff, get to know more about the kind of work their money was supporting. All the staff who were forced to be there, though, knew that this was just Elias's way to force them to schmooze his rich friends to try and get them to donate more to the institute. 

As a library clerk, Martin had never had any reason to be at one of these things before. It was mainly just the heads of departments who were expected to go, along with a few of the higher ranking members of the staff. 'Faces of the institute' was how Elias would often describe them. He liked to remind them of this as paraded them around, showing them off to donors like they were some type of collectable. It wasn't made much better by the fact that a good number of the them seemed almost completely disinterested in what staff were telling about their work.

Suffice to say, Martin was very glad that he wasn't here in an official capacity.

None of the assistants had been required to attend. Elias had told them they were welcome if they wished to come, but that it had not been necessary for the assistants to be there. Tim and Sasha had both come up with excuses to not be there pretty quickly after the offer was made. Martin had, in fact, also declined Elias's offer to be here as a representative of the archives. 

No, Martin was not there as an archival assistant. He decided that the more accurate description for what he was there as was moral support.

Jon, of course, had not been as lucky as the rest of them to have the chance to decline Elias's invite. He was the Head Archivist, and so Elias made it very clear that he was expected at the reception. So, begrudgingly, Jon had agreed.

When Martin had first brought up going with him, Jon had tried to tell him that he didn't need to be there, saying that Martin shouldn't waste his time talking up the archive to a bunch of old business men. Martin had been stubborn about it, though, insisting that Jon shouldn't just let Elias throw him to the wolves without someone there on his side. They were able to compromise, after finding a slight loophole to the invitation. Elias didn't seem particularly happy when they informed him that Martin wasn't there as an employee, but there wasn't much he could do, since staff were technically allowed to bring a plus one.

Being there as a plus one wasn't actually too bad, Martin had to admit. It at least meant he didn't have to get too involved with the other people there, and could focus more on Jon. Jon was notoriously not much of a people person, so he knew that this wouldn't exactly be the most comfortable setting for him, which is largely why Martin had insisted on coming. Being here, he was able to keep and eye on him, stepping into conversation when Jon would start to falter, steering him out of situations that were getting a bit too much. It wasn't exactly what he would consider an ideal way to spend an evening, but he at least felt better known that Jon wasn't doing this alone.

"So," Jon leaned even closer into Martin's side, keeping his voice low, "How much longer do you think we need to be here before we can leave without Elias noticing?"

Martin snorted, "What? You actually think Elias is going to let his beloved little archivist sneak away?"

"Alright, never refer to me as Elias's beloved little anything ever again." Jon laughed, giving him a playful shove.

"Yeah, ok, agreed. That was too much." Martin grinned, his shoulders shaking while he tried to keep from laughing out loud and drawing attention.

They'd managed to find a moments peace from Elias's incessant shepherding. Tucked in near one of the corners of the room no the outskirts of the crowd, for the first time that night no one seemed to be paying them too much attention. They had been told that benefactors tended to be particularly interested in the institutes archivist, and this had quickly been proven to be true. It had been a near constant stream of people coming up to speak to Jon. The Fairchild family seemed particularly eager to meet him, Martin had noticed. Lukas was another name that came up often, but they at least didn't stick around to talk too long. 

"But seriously, I have a feeling that if we try to leave early Elias is going to drag you back here himself." Martin continued with a roll of his eyes, "And besides, why would you want to leave? You've only been scrutinized by maybe half these people so far. There are so many more judgmental looks to be had." 

"I am starting to feel like I'm being judged for best in show." Jon drawled.

"Ah, Jon!" A voice came from the crowd, "There you are."

"Speak of the devil." Martin whispered through his teeth. Elias stepped into view, waving them over to join him. Jon's hand gripped onto Martin's arm, anchoring the two of them together as he pulled him along.

They reached where Elias was, standing with two other men with drinks in their hands and and air of self-importance that honestly rivaled Elias's. The same song and dance they'd been repeating all night began again, with Elias enthusiastically present Jon, and Jon greeting them with significantly less enthusiasm. Then as usual the people Elias had brought them two would introduce themselves, and tell them about whatever business they were in like they excepted people to know who they were, clearly thrilled at the opportunity to talk about themselves. Martin would only half listen to them for most of the conversation, only taking in enough so that if he needed to answer a question or something he'd be able to answer with some confidence as to what was actually going on.

This time his attention was pulled back to the conversation when a hand was thrust towards him.

"And I don't believe we've been introduced." One of the men said with a smile.

Martin shook his hand, opening his mouth to respond, but before he could Jon spoke for him.

"This is Martin. My husband."

At those few simple words Martin felt his chest swell. It hadn't occurred to Martin until this evening just how infrequently the two of them would call each other their husband to other people. It had always been easier to avoid doing that before, less risky, less likely to get them in trouble at work. They hadn't exactly had too many reasons to do it before anyway. But now, Jon was taking every opportunity to say it. And every single time he did his voice seemed to be filled with even more pride than the last time. He said it with such reverence each time, and Martin swore that each time he did he fell in love with Jon all over again. There wasn't a time that Martin could remember where someone had seemed so thrilled to say that he was with them. Maybe this wasn't exactly his ideal evening, but hearing Jon call him is husband like that made it all so worth it.

Well that, and the spiteful glances Elias would give them each time Jon said it, as well. Those were also pretty entertaining

* * *

Martin didn't even bother to properly change when he arrived home, just stripped off the suit flopped into bed in his pants. He was pretty sure he now understood Jon's exhaustion back when Elias had dragged him to all those meetings a few months back. There was something surprisingly tiring about endlessly nodding along with the rambling of some business person that you were trying to please. Memories of working retail as a teenager kept popping into his head.

Shortly after he'd laid down, Martin felt the blankets beside him shift. He realized that Jon had had the same train of thought, as he pulled himself half on top of Martin, head pillowed on his chest, his bare skin being drawn to Martin's warmth. Their windows weren't great at keeping out the chill of a February night, so the shared body heat was always preferable. Martin wrapped him arms around him, happy to oblige Jon's cuddling. 

"Comfortable?" Martin asked as Jon fully settled against him. He'd always been amused by Jon's insistence on using him as a human mattress. Not that he was ever going to complain.

"Yes." Jon smiled. He laid a kiss to the hollow of Martin's throat, "You're soft. And warm."

Drawing him up closer, Martin kissed the crown of Jon's head in return, which only served to make Jon melt into him even more. With Jon's weight pressing down onto him Martin could feel the tension slipping away from his own body, his body going limp and skinning into the mattress with a long exhale of breath. 

"God I am glad tonight it over."

"Yes, and let's be thankful that we don't have to do that again for a long while." Jon sighed, "I hope Tim and Sasha at least had a more pleasant evening."

A half laugh slipped out of Martin, "I can almost garmented you that they did."

"I wonder if they've found anything out about that table yet."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure they got lots of research done tonight."

Bracing his hands on Martin's chest, Jon lifted himself up just enough to look down at Martin with a grin on his face that did not at all match his serious tone, "They might have."

"Alright sure, they might have." Martin teased, "Maybe you've rubbed off on them, got them working at all hours."

"I do other things besides work." In the dark, Martin could just see the way Jon's eyes narrowed slightly, and his smile grew a little wider.

"Oh, do you?" He shifted Jon is his arms, pulling up closer so their eyes were level and their noses were just a few inches apart, "Like what?"

Picking up on Martin's unspoken challenge, Jon answered him by closing the space and kissing him. He kissed him deep, taking advantage of his position hovering over Martin, and brought his hands up to lace into Martin's hair. One of Martin's arms tightened around Jon's waist to hold him in place, while the other slid up his body so his hand could rest with a loose grip at the back on Jon's neck. With each reconnection of their lips, Jon changed the angle of his head ever so slightly, searching out the best one to get their mouths to slot together. 

The kisses eventually began to peter out, turning to barely there brushes of their lips. When they stopped all together they stayed there for a moment longer, foreheads pressed together and the gentle warmth of the others breath on their face. Jon propped himself up to look down at Martin again, and Martin couldn't help but admire the way the shadows played across his face. 

Smiling up at him, Martin spoke in a quiet voice, "I liked the way you introduced me tonight." Jon tilted his head at him, so he continued, "When you'd introduce me as your husband. I liked that. It was nice"

He could just make out the way Jon's eyebrows pulled together at that comment, "Really? I just thought it was an appropriate way to introduce you, given that you are my husband."

"Yeah, I know. But it was the way you said it. It was like you were excited to say it."

"Well...I guess I was." Jon said as though it was nothing, despite the way Martin's chest was beginning to burn, "You're my husband, and I love you, and I enjoy letting people know that. I didn't marry you because I wanted to keep it a secret, I want people to know how important you are to me. If it hadn't been for work, I honestly suspect I would have told people you were my husband much more than I already have."

Martin knew that if he were to go look in a mirror, his face would be bright red. His eyes were starting to feel watery, and his chest was threatening to burst with affection.

"God, you can be such a hopeless romantic something." Leaning up, Martin stole another kiss, "I love you."

"I love you too." 

Jon curled back down against his chest, a content puff of breath blowing across Martin's skin. Martin let himself get lost of the feeling of the man in his arms, the rest of the world beyond their bed fading away. If any winter cold was still hanging in the air he couldn't feel it.

He was just drifting off to sleep when he felt Jon shake slightly, pulling him back to consciousness.

"Hey, you alright?"

"Oh, yes, sorry. I was just, um...I just thought of something stupid." Jon said, an amused tone to his voice, "I was thinking about work, and about us, and it made me think about back when we first started in the archive. I remembered the conversation we have the night you got to archival assistant position, and I made me realize something."

Martin lifted his head off the pillow to look down at Jon, "What's that?"

Lifting his own head, Jon laid his chin flat against Martin so he could look him in the eye.

"We haven't even started looking for a new flat."

"Oh my god." Martin breathed, his own body start to shake with laugher, "You're right, we haven't. Half the reason we were both excited for the promotion, and we haven't even thought about it yet. Alright, you know what, we're going to start doing that soon, make it a priority. We can put it on the to-do list, it can go right next to solving our demon table problem." 

Jon's features might not have been clear in the dim light, but Martin could still make out the soft curve of his smile, and fond gleam to his eyes.

"Sounds like a plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I NotThemed Rosie. When I decided that Sasha was gonna live, I almost just decided to not to do it to anyone, but then I thought about doing it to Rosie and I just kinda vibed with it (tbh I'm not trilled with how that part turned out, but by the time I decided that, I had committed to it, and I liked the rest of the chapter lol). I also apparently decided that Martin has absolutely no time for rich people, but you know what, he grew up poor, I think it tracks. And I though that truly the best way to end this with a small callout for something I basically completely forgot about after, like, chapter 3 hahaha.  
> But yes, they're all happy and safe and working together and all that good stuff. Cope with the knowledge that these characters will never get a happy ending by writing your own!  
> Again, thank you for reading, I really do appreciate it so much, and I hope that you had a good time reading!!<3


End file.
